


Devil's Thrill

by Polly_P



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Tsukihime
Genre: Action, Drama, Gen, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polly_P/pseuds/Polly_P
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the heart of Rome, just outside the Vatican City, is the headquarters of a highly secret organisation specialised in a rather fantastic line of work.<br/>Burial Agency is a notorious but elite branch of the Holy Church which deals with tracking, hunting, and capturing or killing of vampires.<br/>Its leader, a young woman by the name of Narbareck, has been rotting at the agency's headquarters for months, desperately hoping to get another opportunity to hunt.  However, the Fortune seems to have smiled upon her, as one of her co-workers brings news that promise a spectacular prize.<br/>The Director of the Burial Agency sets out for a hunt, and the prey is one of the elite 27 Dead Apostle Ancestors.<br/>However, the hunt of this magnitude prompts her to seek some assistance on her quest...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

**_“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose._  
An evil soul producing holy witness  
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,  
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.  
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!”  
**

  
                                                                                                                                 William Shakespeare _, 'The Merchant of Venice'_

 

* * *

 

_**Part I** _

 

The architect of the building was either clueless or negligent about the acoustics of the building that he had designed. That, and the stairs were a little too steep.  
  
Those were the two observations that an old priest made during his ascent towards the third floor of the building; a somewhat run-down palace in one of the side-streets around Vatican City. His every step was accompanied by a loud and long echo, which resounded throughout the stairwell and the hallways.  
Moving around the building silently was completely impossible, the traitorous echoes bouncing off the walls and marble floors, and alerting everyone inside the building. The priest wondered for a moment if perhaps the building had been designed that way on purpose, so as to alert its staff of any intruders. Knowing that he would never know the answer, he made a small mental shrug and decided not to entertain the thought any more.  
  
He was quite old, with numerous wrinkles and a small hunch, yet he retained a youthful spirit and had a surprisingly good endurance for someone of his age and stature; the long and arduous ascent to the top floor of the building failed to take any noticeable strain on the man.  
  
  
Hurrying up the stairs and down the poorly-lit hallway to the right on his target floor, he found himself in front of his destination in no time.  
  
 _'Director'_ – stated a small brass plate on the door.  
  
The priest straightened the small black cap on the back of his head, pushed his round spectacles higher, to the bridge of his nose, and knocked politely a couple of times.  
He waited to be invited in, but there was no answer. Not discouraged by this, he just knocked again, this time a little louder. Again, no one replied from the inside or opened the door, to which the priest narrowed his eyes a little; he was certain that the person he was looking for was inside the room, so the lack of reply came as a little bit of an annoyance. He decided to try once more, knocking on the heavy wood three times, slowly and loudly. And again – silence.  
  
Tired of knocking and waiting in vain, he grabbed the doorknob and tried turning it. With a silent creak of the hinges the door swung open sluggishly, but still more easily than one might expect considering their size. The priest entered the room without further hesitation.  
  
The first thing he noticed was how stuffy the office was, his lungs reflexively gasping for air within a few seconds. The second was how dark it was in there; the three large windows, which spanned almost the full width and height of the wall opposite the door, had been almost completely covered by the curtains, leaving only narrow cracks open for the few rays of sunshine to get through. In its path the weak light revealed an entire cloud of dust, which seemed to perpetually hang in the air; neither swirling around nor showing any sings of subsiding, either.  
  
The priest's eyes were instantly drawn to a large mahogany desk that lay in front of the middle window, but that wasn't due to its massive size nor its central location in the room - what caught the old man's attention were the _contents_ of the desk.  
  
All the usual things - books, files, stationary, and various accessories - had been removed from the desk and placed rather carelessly into several heaps to the both sides of it. Its place had been taken by a huge, and rising, house of cards. Its bottom layer covered the entirety of the desktop. The pyramid of the cards rose over three feet in height, and there were only three or four rows remaining for it to be completed.  
One after another, pairs of cards were added atop the existing rows, slowly but steadily. The builder of this imposing structure was almost completely hidden behind their creation, but the priest managed to catch a glimpse of messy, silvery hair behind the top layer of the cards.  
  
“Hello, Narbareck,” he greeted the person, his lips curling into a small and kind smile.  
  
There was no reply from behind the rising mountain of cards.  
  
The old priest sighed, as if to say ‘this is so like you’. He dragged one of the chairs from the corner by the door across the room and to the desk, and started observing the meticulously built house of cards as it grew taller and taller. He was restless, though, and grew bored of watching Narbareck put cards together into triangles within less than a minute.  
He stood up and proceeded to stroll around Narbareck’s office aimlessly.  
Loud creaks from the ancient wooden floor accompanied his every step. He passed sluggishly by the tall bookshelves that lined the wall to the right of Narbareck’s desk, running his fingers across the spines of the books, and finally stopped in front of the window.  
Even though the curtains had been drawn over it so that natural light could only come through a tiny crack in the middle, it was obvious that the sun was high and shining brightly. Without even thinking, the priest raised his hand to spread the curtains.  
  
  
He was stopped in his tracks, though, when Narbareck suddenly spoke:  
  
“Stop right there or it will be the last thing you'll do.”  
  
The order was effective; Narbareck’s voice was low, menacing, and ice-cold. However, while one might have expected the priest to freeze in terror – as most people would – he just chuckled childishly and slowly backed away from the window, turning towards Narbareck.  
  
“One might start thinking that you’re a vampire, the way you’ve secluded yourself in here...,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.  
A few seconds passed in silence before Narbareck replied:  
  
“If you break my concentration and I make a mistake, I promise I will kill you.”  
  
“You’re as harsh as usual,” the priest said with a sigh and sat down in his chair again.  
  
He started tapping on the small part of the desk that wasn’t occupied by the house of cards with his index finger, but a chilling glare from Narbareck quickly made him opt for twirling his thumbs in his lap instead.  
  
Finally, after a very long minute of silence, Narbareck declared:  
  
“Done!”  
  
“Finally.”  
  
“Patience is a virtue, Merem.”  
  
“ _My_. Never thought I’d hear that from _you_.”  
  
“Spare me your wit,” Narbareck said and finally emerged from behind a mountain of cards.  
Her silvery hair was uncombed, and strands of it covered the right half of her face. A single emerald eye was locked with Merem’s.  
  
“Why are you here?” she asked.  
  
“Business, I’m afraid.”  
  
“Ah. ‘Business’.”  
  
She turned away from the priest and walked over to the window, her hands behind her back. Merem couldn’t help but notice that her figure, albeit partially obfuscated by her baggy black and white habit, seemed somewhat thinner than the last time he saw her. And he had utmost confidence in his memory.  
  
“Stop staring at my arse,” Narbareck suddenly said.  
  
“How did you...”  
  
“I can feel your stare,” she said, shooting him a cold look over her shoulder.  
  
“Sorry,” he replied, chuckling, “You do seem awfully thin, though. Are you eating properly?”  
  
”What are you, my mother?”  
  
“Of course not. Your mother is dead.”  
  
“Do you have a major in stating the obvious or something? It was a rhetorical question.”  
  
Another chuckle came from Merem, before he spoke again:  
  
”So...?”  
  
“I’m doing just fine,” Narbareck said, cutting him short, “I’m working out regularly.”  
  
”You don’t look all that healthy, though.”  
  
”Of course not. They’ve been keeping me locked up in here since last year. I mostly just sit here all day, except when I’m sleeping. Oh, and there’s also the gym. Such fun.”  
  
“I knew that they kept an eye on you, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”  
  
“It’s bad. The building is also under constant watch; I figure that the Vatican would be under red alert if I suddenly went out for a walk or something. Seriously, those guys are incredibly paranoid. I’ve had to dismantle surveillance cameras and mikes throughout the building _twice_ in the last year.”  
  
“They do seem pretty jumpy around you. Maybe...”  
  
“Maybe they should just fuck off. I’m telling you – if I just left for the nearest grocery store or restaurant, there would probably be a dozen Executors breathing down my neck in a second, and the Pope would be declaring apocalypse!”  
  
Merem waited for a few seconds for Narbareck to calm down after this outburst of frustration. There was still a buzz in the old man’s ears, as Narbareck didn’t seem to possess the ability to control the loudness of her voice.  
  
“Are you okay now?”  
  
”What a stupid question,” she said and turned back to the window.  
  
  
In one fell swoop she spread the curtains apart, and opened the window.  
  
A stream of bright light and fresh air suddenly filled the room, and Merem had to squint in response. Warmth of the stale air tapered off, and the gloomy darkness that permeated the room was dispelled in a blink of an eye by a powerful and blinding torrent of warm June sun. Narbareck took the strand of hair that covered her right eye and tucked it nonchalantly behind her ear. She stood silently in front of the window for a while, observing the scenery below.  
  
The city was bustling with activity - a group of tourists were insecurely making their way across the small piazza below the window of her office, on their way to the nearby Via della Conciliazione, and then, of course, to the Vatican.  
Muffled noise of thousands of cars and mopeds permeated the air, mixed with the clicking of the tourists’ cameras and shouts in some incomprehensible Asian language. However, the bustle and charm of the streets of Rome failed to leave an impression on Narbareck; she neither scowled nor smiled, and just kept looking at the rooftops and the alleys with an expressionless look on her face.  
  
“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Merem said, trying to reignite the conversation.  
  
“Sure,” she replied, and then promptly returned to her desk, disappearing behind the tower of cards again.  
  
“What are you going to do with this?”  
  
“I don’t know. I thought about setting it on fire or something.”  
  
“It’d be a waste – this looks like a very fine desk. It would be such a shame to damage it.”  
  
Merem’s feigned concern for her furniture didn’t trick Narbareck, who only replied with a snicker.  
  
Then, just as quickly and unexpectedly as she had pulled the curtains apart, she toppled the cards.  
  
  
She swept the bottom layer completely, after which the upper layers came tumbling down, and rather loudly at that. The whole process was surprisingly short, Merem observed, considering the sheer size of the structure. Within only a few seconds a huge house of cards that Narbareck had spent God knows how many hours meticulously and painstakingly building, was gone.  
  
Narbareck’s impulsive action and the momentous collapse of the card tower left both her and Merem in the state of mild shock for a while; they just sat in silence again, staring at the heap of cards on the desk. It was again Merem who broke the silence:  
  
”Dammit!” he said, looking visibly disappointed.  
  
“What’s wrong, old man? Feel sorry that it’s gone?”  
  
“No. It’s just that I had this brilliant plan about feigning a sneeze – which by the way I'd have no problem justifying with all the dust around here; you should really open that window more often. And then the sneeze would have toppled the tower. But now my plan is ruined, thanks to you.”  
  
Narbareck stared at the old priest, wide-eyed and seemingly at a loss for words. His fast-paced babbling and the nonchalant tone of his voice left her stunned.  
  
”Say – are you senile or childish? I can’t tell.”  
  
”I’d say that there’s not much difference,” he said with a chuckle.  
  
“I guess you’re right. But still – thinking of destroying this without my permission? Do you crave death so much?”  
  
“Now, now. Is that a way to treat an old friend? To kill me over such a trifle?”  
  
”I’ve killed people for less,” she said, in a flat voice, took out a small dagger from one of the drawers in her desk, and started clearing her overgrown fingernails.  
  
“So, what is this ‘business’ that you have with me?”  
  
“Right!” the priest exclaimed, suddenly energised again. “I’ve got some news for you which I think you’ll be pleased to hear.”  
  
”You seem quite impatient. Come on, tell me.”  
  
“It’s about Gransurg Blackmore.”  
  
  
Narbareck’s mouth widened into a grin. Her emerald eyes were suddenly alight with excitement.  
  
“Do go on.”  
  
“Our informant told me via my... helpers, that Blackmore has left his mansion in Prague yesterday evening, and has headed for his old castle. He’s taken most of his coven with him.”  
  
“Has our operation been discovered?”  
  
”I don’t think so – apparently he left because the Association had started to tighten their grip in Prague. The word is that a special team of Enforcers was sent from the Clock Tower.”  
  
”Are you sure about that?”  
  
”Pretty sure. I’m still in contact with out friend in Blackmore’s coven.”  
  
“But... wait – isn’t Blackmore supposed to be _cooperating_ with the Association?”  
  
”Heh. ‘Cooperating’ might be stretching it a little. Anyways, yes, he does, usually; but apparently he got into a conflict with some of those stuck up Clock Tower lords, and now he’s sort of fallen out of favour.”  
  
“I see. So, Blackmore is back to his castle?”  
  
”It seems so.”  
  
”Well, that makes things simpler.”  
  
”I... don’t see how it-”  
  
“It’s time for action, Merem. At last!”  
  
”You can’t just storm Gransurg’s castle without a plan. That’s... suicidal."  
  
”I’m afraid there’s no time to waste,” Narbareck said, rising to her feet. She hid the dagger with which she was playing inside a compartment in her right boot, and headed towards the door, “It’s a race against time now that those magi got involved. We can’t afford to wait, so I’ll just make some sort of plan as I go.”  
  
Despite her words of concern about the agents of the Association, Merem got the impression that she wasn’t at all disturbed by the turn of events. On the contrary; having been left with a narrow window of opportunity seemed to have made her terribly excited. Her grin was positively disturbing.  
  
“Narbareck, don’t be reckless!” Merem pleaded, but he had already resigned to the fact that there was no negotiating with his Captain once she had come upon a scent of prey.  
Narbareck had set her sights on Blackmore a year ago, and her patience - if she ever had any _real_ patience – was running short.  
  
“You know you’re asking the impossible, Merem,” she said with a chuckle, “I could never forgive myself if I let this chance slip; or worse; if the Association’s dogs beat me to it.”  
  
The two stared into each others’ eyes for a few more seconds, before Merem finally gave up:  
  
”I guess it’s meaningless to implore you to come up with a new strategy and bide for time.”  
  
”It is.”  
  
“Well, since that’s the case, I’ll just leave the necessary documents here,” he said, taking out a large brown folder and placing it on the desk, “These are maps, blueprints, escape plans, and everything else you’ll need.”  
  
”Are you going somewhere already?”  
  
”Yes. Otherwise I would stay and maybe even plan this out with you, but since you’re so determined to take immediate action, I better adapt. My little friends will keep an eye on Blackmore’s castle, and I’ll stay in touch with you to let you know if anything happens.”  
  
”Good. And do try to reestablish contact with our guy there. So that he’s ready when the time comes.”  
  
”Of course.”  
  
”Good. Well, that’s it then,” Narbareck said, barely suppressing her excitement. A familiar spark had already appeared in her eyes, Merem noted – a spark of an insatiable murderous impulse. Even an Ancestor like himself couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of it.  
  
“Well, Merem,” she said, opening the doors and stepping outside, “It’s hunting time.”

 

 

*******


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
Within seconds of leaving her office at the headquarters of the Burial Agency, Narbareck was already dashing down the narrow streets that led to the Via della Conciliazione, impatient to get to the Vatican as soon as possible.  
Still catching her breath after running down several flights of stairs, she entertained herself by fantasizing about reactions of the agents placed in charge of her surveillance. Her sudden venture into the outside world, after being locked up in that godforsaken building for months on end, must have taken them completely by surprise.  
A few cups of coffee must have gotten broken or spilt, she was certain.  
  
‘And they’ve probably already alerted those old farts in the Vatican.’  
  
It was only a matter of minutes before men in black robes would surround her and escort her back. Hers was an unwelcome presence in the normal world, among other humans, and even less welcome in the Vatican, where she was aching to get to as quickly as she could.  
  
Well, as fast as she could without breaking into running, to be more precise. Not that Narbareck particularly cared about appearances; it was just that running in her habit would have almost certainly ended in her tripping and falling face-first onto the pavement. And she had no wish to show up with a bleeding nose in front of the cardinals.  
Again, she didn’t really care about their opinions of her – she knew that they despised her as the lowest of the scum and wanted to have nothing to do with her – it was just that she questioned her own self-control, and wasn’t really sure that she’d be able to stop herself from breaking a neck or two should anyone laugh at her.  
  
So she settled for the next best thing, which was to walk at a fastest pace possible and contain her urge to take lives for a while. She looked a bit awkward walking like that, but then again, Narbareck was hardly someone who could just simply disappear into the crowd.  
  
Her silvery hair and her black robes fluttered in the warm summer zephyr, turning a number of heads in the streets. The long and unkempt strands of her hair kept falling over her eyes, which quickly started to annoy her.  
Just as she had reached the avenue, she decided that she had had enough; she took a small hairband and pulled her hair into a tail. That only made more people pay attention to her, but she hardly noticed.  
  
The Via della Conciliazione was absolutely packed with people and vehicles; tourist buses, motorcycles, taxis, bicycles... all of them creating an unimaginable chaos and noise as they tried to wiggle their was to St. Peter’s Square.  
Even though it was quite a shock, following months of what was not much different to solitary confinement, Narbareck remained unfazed by the hectic atmosphere of Rome's most famous avenue, and just kept pressing on towards St. Peter’s, pushing people aside with her hands and elbows without batting an eye, her gaze fixed on the towering dome of the iconic basilica.  
  
A few hurt and stunned tourists later, she was standing in St. Peter’s Square, a little surprised that she hadn’t been caught by the agents of the Church yet.  
  
She moved to the relative safety of the colonnades on the northern side of the square, and remained there for a few seconds to observe.  
Failing to spot the familiar black robes of the Executors, she mingled into the crowd again and headed for the Via di Porta Angelica, just behind the northern colonnades.  
The crowds were somewhat thinner in the street, but there seemed to be some commotion around the Gate of St. Anna; two black cars had just left the Vatican at full speed, apparently not concerned in the slightest about the pedestrians scattered throughout the narrow streets. Several tourists around Narbareck mumbled in disapproval as she elbowed her way to the gates, which had already been closed shut.  
  
Two Swiss guardsmen in their plain, blue uniforms, stood on guard in front of the gate – Narbareck immediately noticed that they were carrying sidearms; an unusual sight, seeing as how the Guard mostly had a ceremonial role. Weapons were only carried when Pope was nearby, mostly during his trips abroad. That two regular guardsmen were armed meant that the Vatican was on alert.  
This only made Narbareck snicker in glee.  
  
  
She straightened her hair and clothes a little, and took out a large, black, Pectoral cross from one of the pockets of her habit.  
She hanged the necklace around her neck, put on an angelic expression on her face, and approached the gates. The guards immediately stopped her:  
  
”I’m sorry, sister, no entry,” said one of the guards; a middle-aged and well-built man.  
  
“The Vatican is currently off grounds for everyone,” added the second guard; a young blonde lad with blue eyes.  
  
“Oh? Did something happen?”  
  
“Nothing serious, don’t worry. But a state of emergency has been introduced, and the security has been tightened around the city.”  
  
“I see. I hope nothing bad has happened.”  
  
”No, no, don’t worry,” the older guard said with a kind smile, “just a little security issue, but nothing serious. Everything should be taken care of soon.”  
  
”That’s good. Well, I’ve received an invitation from cardinal-“ Narbareck started, stepping forward, but was cut short and stopped again by the younger guard.  
  
“I’m afraid we can’t let you pass. _No one_ enters or leaves the Vatican until the situation’s been resolved and the state of emergency recalled.”  
  
“And besides, we couldn’t let you in without proper authorisation anyways,” said the other man.  
  
“Authorisation? But... I don’t have any papers with me...”  
  
“In that case I’m afraid we can’t let you enter the Vatican.”  
  
“But... I had a call this morning from Cardinal Tomko. I’m from the Urbaniana University, and he asked me to come at this hour to the Vatican. We have some issues to discuss...”  
  
”Couldn’t he have arranged to meet you somewhere else?” said the younger guard, eying her suspiciously.  
  
“He said that he was too busy today to leave the Vatican, and asked me to come to his office here. He said there shouldn’t be problems with me entering,” Narbareck replied humbly, keeping her head down.  
  
“Well, I’m certain that the Cardinal and you have some important issues to discuss, but I’m afraid we can’t let you pass without proper documents.”  
  
“But you don’t understand – I have to hurry! I can’t let the Cardinal-“  
  
”Sister, I’m sorry, but the Vatican is currently off-limits,” said the younger guard, stepping forward and forcing Narbareck to back away a little.  
  
  
Narbareck hung her head, staring at the pavement blankly for a few seconds. Then, she locked her gaze with the older guard’s, and started to twirl the cross on her necklace between her fingers.  
  
“But... I really have to go to that meeting with the Cardinal...” she pleaded.  
Her pale lips twirled into a small and cruel smile.  
  
The guard’s eyes slowly moved downwards. A second later, they widened in terror.  
  
He recognised the cross with which the young nun in front of him was playing; the shiny black Peter Cross – a cross turned upside-down – was undoubtedly one of a kind. And, being a veteran part of the Vatican’s security, he knew to whom it belonged.  
While he had failed to recognise Narbareck by her rather unique white hair, he realized her true identity by her necklace. Pope’s security force had been informed of Narbareck’s existence over a year ago, when she took over the infamous Burial Agency.  
And while her picture faded from his memory in time, the black reverse cross somehow got firmly engraved into the guard’s mind.  
  
He swallowed nervously, and his entire body suddenly got soaked in cold sweat. Narbareck didn’t fail to notice the man’s reaction, which made her even more gleeful.  
  
And when the guard lowered his right hand to his sidearm, she said in a quiet, but menacing voice:  
  
”I don’t want any trouble, gentlemen.”  
  
“I’m sorry?” said the younger guard, who, unlike his senior partner, didn’t recognise Narbareck.  
  
He had only been in the Swiss Guard for a few months, and while he was aware of the existence of the Burial Agency and its infamous leader, he didn’t know what Narbareck looked like.  
  
“Would you please let me pass?” Narbareck said to the older guard, her voice angelically sweet again.  
  
“I... have to consult my superior officer...” the man mumbled. He was breaking into sweat already, which greatly amused the girl.  
  
“I don’t think there’s any need for that. Why cause unnecessary trouble? And I’m already late to my meeting with the Cardinal.”  
  
“There’s still procedure, sister. I’m sure you understand,” the younger guard said.  
  
“Of course, of course. I understand.”  
  
She turned to the older guard, fixing her cold green eyes with his terrified grey ones.  
  
“W-well, of course, we must be professional... but in this case I think we can make an exception. No need to alert the rest of the garrison over such trivial matter. I’m sure the honourable sister has no shady business or anything. No need to make a fuss...”  
  
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said with a curtsy.  
  
“Sir, we can’t just let someone into the Vatican without papers!”  
  
The older guard, who was quickly coming to terms that he has to choose between his life and his career in the Guard, wiped a few drops of sweat from his forehead.  
  
“Mark, don’t complicate things, please. No one needs to know. And I promise to take full responsibility, okay?”  
  
”Eh...”  
  
“Please, good man, “ Narbareck pleaded, with an expression so humble that the older guard was left bewildered how someone of her reputation could look so... innocent; “I’m in a hurry. Please let me pass.”  
  
Turning his head from Narbareck to his partner, and back to her, the young guard eventually caved in:  
  
”Alright, fine. But I still have to search you, alright?”  
  
”That won’t be necessary, Mark.”  
  
“Sir, we can’t just forgo the entire procedure! I can’t just let someone in without checking them, even if it’s a nun!”  
  
”I’m telling you-“  
  
“It’s alright,” Narbareck said, cutting the other guard short, “I don’t want to give you any trouble.”  
  
“Alright. Excuse me,” said the younger guard and started searching Narbareck for any weapons.  
  
She looked at the older guard, who was almost shaking with terror, and winked at him. Her coy expression made him go pale. The young guard, Mark, groped her chest – which was rather bountiful – for a second while probing her, to which she grinned and chuckled:  
  
”I think it’s a little inappropriate to touch a lady there.”  
  
”S-sorry, miss,“ the young man apologised, then tapped the tip of his beret and bowed, “You’re good to go.”  
  
”Thank you, “ Narbareck said, curtsied again to both guards, and entered the Vatican.  
  
She made sure to shoot a grin at the older guard while passing by him.  


  
***


	3. Chapter 3

The heavy thumps of Narbareck's boots on the ornate marble floors of the Apostolic Palace's stately corridors echoed throughout the building.  
  
One or two clerks and priests that she met on her way to the palace's top floor seemed perplexed at the sight of her. She paid them no heed, though, and just hurried towards an office of a Cardinal; not the office of Cardinal Tomko, the head of the Vatican's Congregation for Evangelization of the Peoples - he was merely a cover story. The man she was meeting was not a public face in the Vatican.  
  
 _'Department of Holy Relics'_ said the brass plate on the door before which she stood. She didn't bother with the knocking, and just opened the door without hesitation.  
  
  
“Oh, good, you’re here alr-“  
  
An elderly Cardinal stood up from his armchair to greet the newcomer, but stopped in the middle of his sentence once he saw who it was that had entered the room.   
Just like that guard before, he, too, turned sickly pale at the sight of Narbareck. And once again, it amused her.  
  
“Greetings, Your Eminence,” she said, bowing, “I hope I’m not disturbing.”  
  
As she took a step towards the petrified priest, another figure rose from their armchair.  
  
“You...”   
  
The second man was also a Cardinal, albeit he seemed to be much younger than the first one. They both fixed their gazes at Narbareck, their eyes betraying a mixture of fear and disgust. Narbareck just shrugged their questioning stares off and approached the two:  
  
“Yes, it’s me. I’m sure you’re quite surprised to see me here.”  
  
The Cardinals said nothing.   
  
“You’re tense. Relax, I’m just here for a chat.”  
  
“What do you want you fiend!?” the younger cardinal, a middle aged man with a strong Sicilian accent, asked. He seemed very tense, even more so than his older colleague.  
  
“Like I said, I just want to talk,” Narbareck said, sneering a little at the priest.   
  
  
She crossed the room sluggishly, her scuzzy boots sinking into the thick softness of the red carpet which covered the entirety of the floor, looking around the room as she did so.   
Compared to her dusty, dark, and simple office, this salon was an entirely new world; lavishly furnished, its walls adorned with numerous portraits of Popes and Cardinals, and its ceiling decorated by elaborate plasterwork. In front of a tall window overlooking St. Peter’s Square stood a small coffee table, surrounded by three large and, by the looks of it, incredibly comfy armchairs. On the table there was a large silver plate with a beautiful, ornate porcelain tea set. Next to it was an obligatory plate of biscuits.  
  
Circling behind the older cardinal, she took the liberty of taking a seat in the unoccupied chair right in front of the window.  
  
“Hm... this is a great chair, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
The two cardinals again said nothing. Narbareck then let out a long sigh of resignation. With the priests still in a state of shock, and thus incapacitated for conversation, she set her sights on the coffee table.  
  
“You won’t mind if I help myself to some tea?”   
  
Without waiting for the priests’ response she grabbed the tea pot from the table and started filling an empty cup in front of her.  
  
“Mmm...” she mumbled, sniffing the steam that was rising from the dark brown, nearly black liquid, “Don’t tell me – it’s Darjeeling, right?”  
  
The cardinals remained silent and tense, but they slowly went back to their armchairs, eying Narbareck suspiciously while she continued to enjoy the strong scent rising from her teacup.  
  
“I never knew that someone like you would be so knowledgeable about tea,” said the younger of the cardinals with a supercilious sneer as Narbareck reached for the sugar.  
  
“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises _Your Eminence_ ,” she retorted.  
  
“I must say, you guys do surprise me a little, “ she continued whilst putting one sugar cube after another into the tea cup,   
“Even during such an emergency, you still cling to your comfort and perks; I mean, someone like me is walking around freely, but you still make sure there’s tea and biscuits during your emergency security meeting. That's dedication.”  
  
Her sneer made both cardinals’ twitch in annoyance, but they said nothing as Narbareck took a sip of her tea.  
  
“Mmm, this is really good. I’ve got to say, you people certainly do have taste. But say, I count three cups and three chairs here. And I sincerely doubt that I was meant to be the third person. So, who else was invited to this little party?”  
  
The cardinals exchanged a worried look but remained silent once again. However, Narbareck soon got an answer to her question when someone knocked on the door and, without waiting for a reply from the inside, entered the room.  
  
  
“Sorry I’m late, I...” the man started, but stopped once he saw Narbareck at the table.  
  
“Hello, Colonel Buchs. How are you doing?”  
  
”How...?”  
  
”Oh, I had a chat with some of your men down at St. Anne’s Gate, and... let’s say that they were swayed by my feminine charms.”  
  
The commander of the Swiss Guard stood in the doorway with his mouth half-open in astonishment. This kind of security breach might cost him his career, and he knew that very well. Stares of contempt from the two cardinals made him swallow nervously.  
  
Narbareck, who was quite enjoying the sight of Vatican’s chief of security squirming, took another sip of tea.  
  
“Well, I’m afraid there’s only three cups, Colonel, so unfortunately you won’t be able to join us for our little tea party. Perhaps next time?”  
  
“I...”  
  
The poor Colonel was at a complete loss of words.  
  
“Leave, Colonel. We’ll discuss this later,” said the younger cardinal and dismissed the commander with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Y-yes, Your Eminence,” the man said and quickly left the room.   
  
“Well, then,” Narbareck continued after a short awkward silence that followed the colonel’s quick departure, “Why don’t you help yourself to the tea? It’s delicious.”  
  
”What do you want, Number 1?” the younger cardinal asked impatiently.   
It seemed that his dislike of Narbareck overcame his fear of her, and he was now showing open disdain.   
  
The title that he used to address her didn’t sit well with Narbareck, though. Creasing her forehead, she leaned back in her armchair, and shot the priest a look that would freeze one’s blood in their veins. It made the Cardinal twitch a little, but he remained firm.  
  
“Well, Cardinal, I’m here to talk business.”  
  
”Business?” said the other cardinal, finally joining in the conversation.  
  
“Yes, business. And I’m sure you can imagine what kind of business it is.”  
  
”Vampires?” said the younger cardinal.  
  
“Bingo! Sharp-minded as always, Rossi.”  
  
“That’s ‘Cardinal Rossi’ or ‘Your Eminence’ to you.”   
  
“Whatever,” Narbareck replied and helped herself to one of the biscuits.  
“These are really good. Anyways, yes, it’s about a vampire. A big one, in fact.”  
  
“An Ancestor?”  
  
“Yes. Gransurg Blackmore.”  
  
  
The two cardinals exchanged a worried look for a few seconds, the time which Narbareck used to stuff another biscuit into her mouth.  
  
”We’ve been keeping an eye on Blackmore for some time now. We even have some people from your department helping us in Prague,” she said, her mouth still full.  
  
“I don’t remember approving of Executors cooperating with your bunch,” said Cardinal Rossi.  
  
“We recruited them for this operation secretly. This is a unique operation, aiming at the very top of one of the most powerful Ancestor covens. I’m sure you understand that we couldn’t risk the Ancestors finding out and sabotaging our efforts?”  
  
”There is no way the Executors would leak information to the heretics!”  
  
“Well, you never know. And besides, while Blackmore is a secluded eccentric, you can bet that Ortenrosse has his spies everywhere. And he’d like nothing more than to get leverage over Black Wing.”  
  
”If there is a spy in the Church, then I’m afraid your Agency are the prime suspects. Especially your Number 5.”  
  
“Merem? What about him?”  
  
“What about...?” said the other cardinal, “He’s an Ancestor, for goodness’ sake! A vampire working for the Holy Church?!”  
  
”It’s alright, Cardinal Naro. I assure you that he can be trusted. As long as you keep providing us with trinkets, at least.”  
  
”Why, you...”  
  
  
“Anyways” Narbareck interrupted him; her patience was quickly running thin, and so she decided to cut this meeting short.   
She leaned forward onto the edge of the chair and continued in cold, business-like tone,   
  
“I’ve just received information from our intelligence network that warrants immediate and resolute action. And seeing as how we’re against a top-level Ancestor, the Burial Agency will require the assistance of both the Executors and the Assembly of the Eight Sacrament, both in manpower and in resources.”  
  
“I thought you people preferred operating on your own?” asked Cardinal Naro.  
  
“We do. However, need I remind you that this is the Lord of the Black Wing we’re talking about; even I will need some assistance to capture an Ancestor as powerful as him. And I can’t count on my other agents right now because they are all scattered throughout Europe, and time is of the essence here. I’m sure you understand the need for inter-agency cooperation in this case.”  
  
“We can’t just lend you-“ started Cardinal Rossi, but he didn’t get to finish.  
  
“I’m not asking you; I’m _telling_ you.”  
  
“Who the hell do you think you are!?” the cardinal exclaimed, springing to his feet.   
  
While his colleague just sat in silence, the head of the Executors decided that he would have none of Narbareck’s brash attitude.  
  
“ _I_ am the Director of the Burial Agency of this Church,” she stated calmly, “And _you_ , Cardinal Rossi, the 120th Cardinal of the Curia, _will_ lend me your men without any further complaints. Is that understood?”  
  
“I won’t-“  
  
“Or do you perhaps want me to take this matter to the Pope?” she added with a cruel and twisted smile.   
  
The effect of her words was instantaneous; the Cardinal suddenly turned pale, and got soaked in cold sweat.  
  
“The Pope...?”  
  
”Yes. He _is_ my superior, after all. Maybe we should take the matter before him?”  
  
”That won’t be necessary.”  
  
”I think so, too. It’s better not to bother the Holy Father with some petty inter-agency squabbling.”  
  
“Yes...”  
  
”And that way no one needs to know about that young man from the Urbaniana University and you...”   
  
If Narbareck’s earlier threat to take the matter to the Pope made Cardinal Rossi turn pale, this sentence made his skin transparent. His heart started beating fast and he swallowed nervously.  
  
“What? What young man from the university?”  
  
“Oh, you know- your assistant at the faculty of Theology. Handsome lad, lovely blond hair. You’re quite fond of him, aren’t you?.”  
  
“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,“ the priest said, trying his best to calm down and peeking at the other cardinal; Naro was eying the 120 th Cardinal with growing suspicion and disbelief.  
  
”Oh, don’t worry – your secret is safe with me!” Narbareck said, her face adorned with an angelic smile once again,   
“So, about your cooperation...”  
  
“Yes, yes, the Executors are at your disposal,“ Cardinal Rossi said, falling back into his armchair. He took a sip of tea to try to soothe his nerves, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.  
  
“And you, Cardinal Naro? Will the Assembly assist us in hunting down this dangerous vampire?”  
  
”Yes... of course....” the old priest replied slowly, and helped himself to tea, as well, “We’ll put the sacred relics of the Holy Church at your disposal.”  
  
”Excellent,“ Narbareck said and emptied her cup. As she placed it back on the coffee table, her eyes glinted again.  
“There is one other favour I have to ask you, Your Eminences.”  
  
The barely suppressed excitement in her voice didn’t pass unnoticed by the two cardinals. They lowered their cups back onto the saucers, and stared at her with tense and questioning looks.   
She replied with another grin:  
  
”I’ll need your keys for the Hall of Mirrors.”  
  
Complete silence. The two cardinals nervously avoided eye contact with Narbareck, who used the time to pour herself another cup of tea.   
All she had back at the Burial Agency’s headquarters was cheap fruit tea and some bad coffee, so, as a connoisseur of teas, she wanted to make the most out of this opportunity.   
The priests kept exchanging nervous glances with one another while she slurped on the hot brown liquid.   
  
  
Finally, Cardinal Naro gave in:  
  
”Very well. I shall provide you with my key. The Assembly is willing to lend you any assistance you require to fight the heretics. I hope our trust will not be taken advantage of.”  
  
”Of course not! And you, Rossi; what do you say?”  
  
”Yes, we will give you the authorisation, too. I shall arrange it that you receive our key, and security clearance for the complex.”  
  
”Very good. Well,” Narbareck said, emptying her cup and placing it gently on the colourful saucer in front of her,   
“as I said, time is of the essence. I will be leaving for Prague tonight. I need you to send your keys to the Agency immediately.”  
  
”A-ha.”  
  
“Cardinal Rossi: I’ll need three of your best Executors, fully armed, and ready by seven o’clock.”  
  
”Sure... I’ll find you some good men.”  
  
While his tone was respectful and seemed sincere, Narbareck narrowed her eyes at the priest; she knew Rossi well, and was certain that he won’t send her the best men available. He wouldn’t want to waste his top Executors on her, and will probably give her some cannon fodder.  
  
‘Well, it is just as well’, she thought to herself.  
  
“Right. And you, Cardinal Naro – I’ll need one of your men from the Assembly. And a relic or a Scripture, too. I’ll let you know which one I’ll need over the phone, once I’ve returned to my office and drawn up my plan of action. Alright?”  
  
”Yes, yes, anything you need.”  
  
”Good. Well, gentlemen, thank you for your cooperation, “ Narbareck said, rising from her chair,   
“I must say - this was a very enjoyable tea party. I think we should do this more often.”  
  
”I think not,” said cardinal Rossi, in a flat voice.  
  
“Well, at least let me grab another biscuit”, she said, not waiting for his permission and stuffing her pocket with the rest of the biscuits from the plate,   
“These are really delicious.”  
  
“Right. Well, if that’s all, please be kind enough and leave now. We have to fulfill all these requests of yours now, and it will take some time.”  
  
“Don’t make it take too much time, though. I want those keys within two hours, and your men to be ready by seven o’clock. It would be most troublesome if I had to come here again because your cooperation was lacking.  
“Oh, and try to organise a Mass for me and your men.”  
  
”Are you serious!?” said Cardinal Rossi, looking genuinely shocked, even more so than when Narbareck requested their keys for the Hall of Mirrors.  
  
“Yes, I’m serious. We can’t go on a dangerous heretic hunt without God’s blessing, surely.”  
  
“Right... I’ll arrange for a Mass. Now please, go.”  
  
”Alright, alright. I won’t disturb you anymore, “ she said, and walked over to the door.  
  
“Say hi to the Pope for me, will you?”  
  
“Get out.”  
  
”Heh.”  
  
Satisfied, Narbareck quickly left the salon, leaving the two stupefied Cardinals to their own devices.  
  
  
  
The halls of the Palace seemed to be completely deserted, and she didn’t encounter anyone until she reached St. Anne’s Gate.   
Two familiar faces were still there.  
  
“Hello, gentlemen!” she greeted the two guards when she got close to them.   
  
She noticed that _both_ men turned pale and jumpy when they saw her; the older guard must have told the younger one who she was. The expression of terror on the young man’s face brought another grin to Narbareck’s cheeks.  
  
“Oh, I completely forgot,” she said sweetly to the man, and reached for her right leg.  
  
  
Before one could even bat an eye, she took out the small knife that she had hidden in her boot earlier,  
  
“I should have given this to you earlier.”  
  
and stabbed the young guard in the neck.  
  
  
The blade pierced his left carotid and jugular, and tore asunder his larynx. Within a second blood started gushing out of the vessels; some spilling onto his uniform and staining the indigo with vermillion, and some pouring down his windpipe and obstructing his airways.   
  
The man reached for his throat in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but Narbareck caught him with her free hand.   
  
Driving the knife deeper into the man’s neck, now tearing the vessels on the other side of his neck, she stepped closer and whispered into the guard’s ear:  
  
 _”I don’t like being touched.”_  
  
She moved away to savour the expression on the man’s face for a moment – a mixture of terror, despair, and agony, his eyes pleading helplessly – before stepping back and pulling the knife out of his neck.  
  
A few weak bursts of blood come out of his neck as his heart strained itself to try to pump the precious liquid into the oxygen deprived brain.   
It was for naught, however, and after staring blankly at Narbareck for several seconds, the young guard collapsed onto the pavement. Blood kept pouring out of his wound for a little longer, creating a small red puddle beneath him.  
  
Breathing out a loud sigh of satisfaction, Narbareck turned to the older guard.  
  
The man was deathly pale and paralyzed. His mind went blank with terror after witnessing Narbareck kill his colleague in cold blood in front of his eyes; even if had entertained the thought of calling for help or drawing his weapon, the look in Narbareck’s eyes did away with them.  
  
She smiled angelically, but her eyes were as cold as ice, burning with cold madness.  
  
“Is there a problem, sir?” she said.  
  
He couldn’t even muster strength to answer her, and just shook his head weakly.  
  
“Great. In that case I’ll be on my way.”  
  
With a smile and a curtsy, she left the shivering guard and the bloody corpse of his colleague behind her. The crowds outside St. Anne’s Gate were sparse and it seemed that no one had noticed what had just happened behind the gates. Which was just as well.  
  
Whistling something that sounded like an Irish folk tune, Narbareck made her way towards St. Peter’s Square. Drawing another breath of satisfaction as she bathed in the warm summer sun, she smiled at the blue skies above.  
  
“Today is a good day.”  


***


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
Several hours after her meeting with the heads of the Executors and the Assembly of the 8th Sacrament, and having already decided on the plan of action, Narbareck found herself in another centre of power of the Holy Church as she continued to gather the pieces needed for the hunt. But this place was a world apart from the stately salons and halls of the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican.  
  
  
It was a vast underground complex, located deep under the Castel Sant’Angelo, right in the heart of Rome. A maze of corridors, rooms, and shafts shaped like a reverse pyramid, sprawling over several acres and seven levels beneath the ground, it was the centre of the Church’s military arm.   
  
The complex - most of which had been built during the Cold War by the Italian government as shelters and a command centre in case of a nuclear exchange, and then almost immediately bought by the Holy See - comprised offices, training grounds, armouries, an espionage centre, research laboratories, messes, a chapel, underground garages, and various other facilities necessary for running an international force numbering hundreds, if not thousands of agents.   
  
From here the Church coordinated its spy network, its Knights’ Orders, and elite Executors, ensuring that all emergencies and threats to Christendom by supernatural and demonic forces were dealt with swiftly and effectively. It was a face of the Vatican that no one from the normal world had ever seen< a secret army about whose existence several authors of conspiracy theory novels speculated, but no one save a small circle of privileged individuals within the Church actually knew of.   
  
Just like the Mage’s Association took great effort in concealing the existence of a thriving community of practitioners of magecraft scattered throughout the world, the Holy Church’s existence was to be kept secret from the public at all costs.  
  
  
  
After entering the complex through one of the plain, Church-owned buildings surrounding the Castel, Narbareck descended down to the seventh level of the complex, over 150 feet beneath the streets of Rome.   
  
The corridor outside the elevator was bathing in the cold white and blue light of the fluorescent bulbs.   
One other person was also in the corridor, walking in the direction of the elevator. The seventh level was only for the select few who were working on research and development of new anti-vampiric weapons for the Church, so it was no wonder that the hallways were mostly empty.  
  
Narbareck stepped forward into the hall, a large silver briefcase in hand.   
She had changed her clothes before coming here, and instead of her usual black and white habit, a black leather coat fluttered behind her as she made her way through the hallway and towards the elevator doors on the other end of the corridor. A pair of army boots creaked against the polyester floor, alerting the other man, who had previously been staring intently at a file in his hand, of her presence.   
  
"Captain."  
  
He nodded to Narbareck and quickly moved out of her way.   
She didn’t even acknowledge the man’s presence, and just speeded by. The elevator doors on the far end of the corridor were sealed, and required a security code to open. Only two people in the world - numbers 1 and 2 of the Burial Agency - knew the code needed to enter the elevator, which led to the deepest, eight floor of the complex.  
  
Narbareck quickly typed in the eight-digit code, anxious to get to the lowest level as soon as possible.   
She was brimming with excitement, but managed to conceal it rather well. On the outside, she was cold and collected. Only a fiery glint in her emerald eyes betrayed her true emotions.  
  
The sealed doors slowly spread open to the loud hiss of pressurised air being forced through the pneumatic mechanism inside them. Narbareck stepped inside the small elevator cabin. After a short ride downwards, the elevator stopped; doors slid open, and Narbareck entered the corridor outside.  
  
  
The light was weaker here compared to the previous level. The walls and the floor were bare concrete, but there was no moss. Pale fluorescent bulbs shed eerie light over the narrow hallway. There were no side corridors, nor doors leading to other rooms.  
Save for one.   
At the opposite end of the hall, half-hidden in shadows because the weak light barely reached that far corner of the hallway, was a single door.   
It was a bulky, steel hatch door, not unlike those found on ships and submarines, secured by a rotating lever. To the right of the door, there was another panel for entering authorisation code. And beneath it, a small keyhole.  
  
  
Narbareck approached the hatch door and entered the eight digit code again. Once she had done so, a green light next to the keyhole started blinking, to which she took a key from the inner pocket of her coat.  
A plain key at first glance, it bore the insignia of the 120th Cardinal – the commander of the Church’s Executors.   
  
A turn of the key was followed by loud metallic noise from the doors. Narbareck pulled the lever and opened the hatch.  
  
Just a few yards behind it was another door, identical to the first one. And again Narbareck entered the code and took out a key from her coat. This key was marked by the mark of the secret Assembly of the Eight Sacrament – the Holy Church’s division responsible for retrieval, research, and managing of sacred relics and Scriptures. The key was turned, the lever pulled, and the second hatch opened. Finally, Narbareck found herself in front of the third door.   
  
The key for the third door was her own; she kept it with her at all times, except when the Number 2 of the Agency requested its use. Unlike the silvery keys of the 120th Cardinal and the head of the Assembly, the key of the Director of the Burial Agency had no marks or insignia - it was a simple, charcoal black key.  
  
She repeated the opening procedure for the third time.  
  
  
A sudden flood of bright white light made her squint. Nevertheless, she stepped forward into the room behind the third door. After a few seconds her eyes got accustomed to the strong light inside the room, allowing her to see the inside of the hall clearly.  
  
  
It was probably the most strange and surreal room imaginable; circular, dozens of yards wide, bathing in the light of over a hundred light bulbs attached to the low ceiling.   
The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all white, discombobulating anyone who entered the room. But most peculiar of all, the room was a labyrinth; hundreds of mirrors, all about as tall and wide as a person, were arranged throughout the room in form of an intricate maze, with dozens of dead end corridors. The maze was shaped like a spiral, its halls converging towards a single small open space in the centre of the room; this spot was Narbareck’s final destination.   
  
She managed to navigate her way through the maze splendidly, and reached its focal point in no time. A thick wall of mirrors encircled the central opening, leaving only a few tiny cracks between the neighbouring mirrors, which allowed one to see the area that they enclosed.   
  
And the sight was a most grotesque one.  
  
In the very middle of the opening there was a cylindrical water tank, and inside it what looked like the remains of a human body.  
  
A brain and a spinal cord - almost fully developed - were floating in the liquid inside the tank, connected by bundles of nerves to a collection of organs: heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and some of the intestines. While the first traces of the skeleton ( like the vertebrae and the ribs )had already started to grow, there wasn’t any skin, muscles, or eyes.   
The organs were connected, via a myriad of tubes, pipes, and wires, intertwined and forming an intricate web inside the water tank, to numerous medical life-support machines and devices lined up next to the circle of mirrors.   
  
Narbareck had only seen this bizarre place once before, back when she took over as the leader of the Burial Agency. She remembered the strange feeling of awe she felt back then, for that same feeling overtook her mind and body as she gazed at the grotesque collection of entrails in the middle of this hall of mirrors.  
  
  
The remains of El Nahat, one of the Twenty Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors.   
  
This vampire’s unique ability to destroy his enemies no matter how strong, along with his main body - and still retain the ability to regenerate over time as long as his stomach remained - was deemed useful by the Church, which is why his stomach had been ripped out, and transformed into a Holy Scripture in the form of a book.   
  
_Alien Stomach World._  
  
The Scripture did not possess the exact same amount of destructive firepower as its original owner; in fact, the power of the Scripture was directly proportional to how far El Nahat had managed to regenerate his main body by the point when the Scripture would be activated, which meant that in order to be of any use, the Stomach World could only be used once every few decades.   
  
The medical devices that supported El Nahat’s body weren’t really necessary, but they did speed the regeneration process up a little.  
  
Still, even with its downsides, it was the Church’s final weapon against the Dead Apostles, a tool of unfathomable power, and Narbareck was genuinely ecstatic to have finally gotten a chance to use it.   
  
She entered the central area through a narrow opening between the mirrors, and approached a small desk that stood in front of the water thank that held El Nahat’s body.  
  
On the desk lay a simple, black book.  


***


	5. Chapter 5

 

As the church bells struck half past seven in the evening, a special Mass that was being held in the church of St. Anne in the Vatican came to an end. Only a handful of people attended it; all of them members of Vatican’s secret organisations.   
Four of them – one priest from the Assembly of the 8th Sacrament and three Executors – had exited the church, and two started smoking while waiting for the fifth person, Narbareck, who was still inside.   
  
Two black cars were parked in the narrow street in front of the church.   
All four men seemed restless, conversing in low voices about the mission for which they had suddenly been handpicked.   
  
It was incredibly unusual - perhaps even without precedent, at least in the last few decades – for the agents of the Burial Agency to cooperate with members of the other branches of the Holy Church.   
They were all lone wolves, an eccentric and feared lot among the rest of the Church, who preferred dealing with their prey on their own terms. Their actions were sometimes too extreme even for the most ruthless of the Executors. For the Director of the Agency, the most infamous of the bunch, to suddenly organise a hunt like this meant that the Church was dealing with an enemy of the highest order; a particularly powerful Dead Apostle Ancestor.   
  
The four agents had already received some basic briefing before coming here, but most of the data pertaining to the hunt ahead of them was to be distributed during their flight from Rome to Prague. Thus, all four of them were still half in the dark regarding upcoming mission.  
  
  
Just as the two Executors were about to light a second round of cigarettes, Narbareck finally emerged from the Church. One gloved hand was stuffed in the left pocket of her leather coat, while the other was firmly clutching a silver briefcase. Her face was stern, and her tone commanded obedience:  
  
“Move out! You three, go in the first car. You, Assembly guy; you’re coming with me in the second car. Go.”  
  
The four agents obeyed immediately; cigarette butts were thrown on the ground, doors slammed as the men entered the cars, and with a loud hum of engines, the group left the Vatican through the Gate of St. Anne.  
  
  
  
After getting bored of watching buildings, palaces, and churches fly by as the car speeded through central Rome, Narbareck turned to her companion, the priest from the Assembly of the 8th Sacrament.  
  
He seemed to be Asian, but he was rather tall, and brown-haired. Simple black clothes and a golden Pectoral cross on his chest were his attire. He, too, was staring through the window in silence. Narbareck had expected him to take the front seat, by the driver, but he didn’t appear to be at all uncomfortable sitting in the back, next to her. He only seemed _bored_.  
  
“So, what’s your name, priest?”  
  
He slowly turned towards her, with a look that was half-empty and half-surprised at her speaking to him. Still, he replied clearly:  
  
”Kirei. Kotomine Kirei.”  
  
”Which one of those is your first name?”  
  
”Kirei.”  
  
“A-huh. Sounds Asian.”  
  
“Japanese.”  
  
”There aren’t many Japanese here in the Vatican. You’re the first one I’ve met, actually.”  
  
”I’m aware of that.”  
  
“Your Italian’s good. You look pretty tall for an Asian, though.”  
  
“My father was Japanese, but my mother was not. He met her during a pilgrimage to Lourdes.”  
  
”Quite a lovely story – a man and a woman find each other whilst seeking God,” Narbareck said, with a mocking snigger, “Say, what made you choose a career in the Church?”  
  
“I never really thought about it. My father is a priest, too, so it seemed only natural.”  
  
Kirei’s last few words didn’t pass unnoticed for Narbareck, but she decided to focus on something else at the moment:  
  
”Wait, your father is a priest? Wow. That’s just... wow. That must have been a pretty awkward confession he had to make after that.”  
  
“Don’t talk bad about my father.”  
  
“I wasn’t talking bad about him.”  
  
”You were mocking him. I will not allow you to do that. He is the most virtuous man I know.”  
  
Words that came out of Kirei’s mouth sounded firm and confident, but it did not escape Narbareck’s sharp gaze that the young priest’s eyes were as empty while he was uttering them as they were while he absentmindedly looked through the window earlier.  
  
The corner of her mouth twitched a bit as she suppressed a grin:  
  
”What a good son you are, defending your father’s honour. Then riddle me this, priest – if he’s so virtuous and good, how do you explain and justify the fact that he broke his vows and slept with a woman? It doesn’t sound like something a truly good and virtuous priest would do.”  
  
Kirei didn’t respond immediately, instead taking a few seconds to think before he answered:  
  
”My father’s act wasn’t born out of passion or lust, but true love. There was nothing sinful about it, and even if there was, he already repented for it through confession and penance.”  
  
“Heh. What a masterful evasion of the problem. Well, you’re good with words, I’ll grant you that. You’d probably make a great preacher. But you haven’t really addressed the issue: how can he be virtuous if he’s broken his vows and the Church’s code? It doesn’t matter whether his act was born out of passion or love – your Church explicitly forbids its priests to have sexual relations and marry. No exceptions.”  
  
”His act-“  
  
“No, don’t give me that shit. There’s no way around it. If you’ve taken up a vow - and one that binds you to God, at that – then surely breaking that vow diminishes one’s virtuousness. Don’t you see a logical contradiction in your claim?”  
  
”Even so...”  
  
”So you admit that I’m right?”  
  
”Even so! That doesn’t mean he’s not a virtuous person. One act cannot overturn a man’s entire character.”  
  
Narbareck didn’t respond to him for a while, and instead just watched him intently. The young man’s words and tone, and even his facial expression, were those of a man certain and confident in his beliefs. But Narbareck wasn’t really interested in his words or tone. His eyes told her all the truth that she needed to hear.  
  
“I do believe that you greatly respect your father. And that he really is an incredibly virtuous and pious man.”  
  
“He is.”  
  
“But this is not just about your father, isn’t it?”  
  
”What do you mean?”   
  
“Well, you said you became a priest because of your father?”  
  
”I.... yes.”  
  
“That must mean that you greatly admire him and want to be just like him, right?” Narbareck said, grinning at Kirei.  
  
He looked down, seemingly lost for a few seconds, but then answered.  
  
”Yes, I do.”  
  
“There’s a lack of conviction in your voice, priest.”  
  
“No there isn’t. I mean it – I _do_ want to be just like my father.”  
  
”Heh. I’m sure you do. But... how does breaking one’s vows count into that?”  
  
“I don’t understand.”  
  
”Well, you said that you want to be a perfect priest because you look up to your father, and consider him a perfect priest, no? But how can one be a perfect priest if they’ve broken their vows? Would your father still be a perfect role-model?”  
  
”I... I am not a perfect priest...” said Kirei, in an emotionless voice.  
  
“Oh? Have you broken your vows, too?”  
  
Kirei said nothing.  
  
“I see... But still – I don’t think that sleeping with a woman is what’s really troubling you, priest.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I’m saying that I think that you have other problems on your mind.”  
  
”What would you know what I think?”  
  
”I can tell. It’s my talent.”  
  
”Right. I’m afraid I don’t care much for psychics.”  
  
”Oh, I’m not a psychic. It’s just a little talent of mine. Say, priest – do you want to know what I think you think?”  
  
“Well that was a mouthful.”  
  
”I think you don’t really care about this whole priesthood business at all.”  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
”I don’t think you really have any passion in your chosen career, _Kirei_.”  
  
  
Narbareck’s twisted grin, her blunt words, and the fact that she said his name for the first time since he introduced himself to her, all made the calm and collected Kirei twitch a little. Still, he had enough presence of mind to remain in control of his emotions and acts:  
  
”And what makes you think that?”  
  
”Oh, not much. It’s just that you didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic when you said how taking up priesthood was ‘only natural’ to you.”  
  
”Plenty of children take up professions after their parents, it’s nothing strange. And they don’t only do it out of a sense of obligation, but out of genuine passion.”  
  
”Yes, but not _you_.”  
  
“You know nothing about me.”  
  
”I think I know enough,” she replied, her eyes now glowing with twisted pleasure.  
  
“Spare me your insights. I am a man of God. I will do whatever is asked of me for my faith. My faith is everything to me, no matter what you think.”  
  
”Spoken like an exemplary priest. I bet your father is proud of you. I bet everyone who knows you thinks you’re a model priest,” she continued after a small chuckle.  
  
“But say, Kotomine Kirei; do you find pleasure and purpose in your career as a priest?”  
  
”Of course I do,” Kirei replied, but the consistent lack of passion in his eyes failed to convince Narbareck. On the contrary; each further answer to her instigations only served to strengthen the impression she was getting from the young priest.  
  
”Do you? Somehow I doubt that.”  
  
“Think whatever you want.”  
  
  
By that point Kirei was left positively disturbed by his conversation with Narbareck. She noticed a slight dose of terror and insecurity creeping into his voice and into his emotionless eyes. As if he had been shown a glimpse of a dark abyss.  
  
Narbareck’s only response was a snicker.  
  
“Say, Kirei, do you know who I am?”  
  
”Of course I do – you’re the leader of the Burial Agency.”  
  
“And what do you know about me?”  
  
“That you’re the Church’s most powerful vampire hunter. That you have captured a Dead Apostle Ancestor on your own a year ago, when you took over the agency, even though you were only 16.“  
  
”Is that all you know?”  
  
“Of course not. Everyone knows what happened during your hunt of the Ancestor,” Kirei said, turning a suspicious eye filled with disgust at Narbareck. She, of course, noticed that.  
  
”Do I disgust you, Executor?”  
  
”Of course you do. You’re a vile murderer. You’re godless. Your actions go against everything the Church teaches.”  
  
“Indeed. I am monster. I enjoy killing. I do not deny that. What point is there to deny our own nature?” she said.  
  
Her twisted grin revealed two shiny fangs, and Kirei backed off a little from her. However, that wasn’t because he was intimidated by her appearance. It wasn’t Narbareck’s sick smile that made Kirei’s heart pound stronger, but her words.  
  
“What point is there...?”  
  
”Yes. Why fight against who you are? Why deny your impulses? What good will it do to a person if they keep killing their own nature?”  
  
”Self restraint and control of one’s urges are some of the most important teachings of the Catholic Church. That is the path to holiness.”  
  
”And are you on that path, priest? Will you ascend to heaven one day?”  
  
“If God judges me to be worth it. All of us are at his mercy.”  
  
”Heh. Kotomine Kirei – if those are your actual, honest thoughts, then you truly are an ideal priest.”  
  
  
Kirei fell silent again, staring at the palms of his hands which he rested on his knees. He felt that they got sweaty during his conversation with Narbareck, and it unnerved him.  
  
“Still – would embracing our own nature be so bad?” Narbareck said after a long silence,   
“Wouldn’t people feel more at peace if they could just be who they are and accept themselves as such, instead of always denying themselves, always killing themselves because the society expects or tells them to do so?”  
  
”And what about evil people?”  
  
”What about them?”  
  
”What you’re saying is all well and good as long as it’s about harmless things, about mostly good people. But what about the likes of...”  
  
Kirei stopped in the middle of his sentence, and the abrupt pause didn’t fail to make Narbareck giggle on the inside once more.   
She could easily guess what the priest was about to say, but decided to torture him no more; she had already read the man. While others must have thought him a virtuous man to the core, Narbareck knew better. She could read his thoughts and feelings, for his eyes always spoke the truth.   
One just had to look, and Narbareck was good at looking.  
  
‘We are birds of a feather, after all, Kotomine Kirei. You just haven’t realised it yet,’ she thought to herself,   
‘But don’t worry; you can’t run from yourself forever.’  
  
  
Just then the car stopped as they finally reached their destination; the Fiumicino Airport.  
  
Through the thick shower of rain – which Narbareck hadn’t noticed while they were on the way here due to having a rather... engaging conversation with Kotomine Kirei – she could see that the Vatican’s private jet was already waiting for them at the far end of the runway.   
The first car was already there, and she saw the three Executors loading some bags and briefcases from the trunk of their car into the plane.  
  
Both Narbareck and Kirei opened their car doors at the same time, and were just about to leave the car when Narbareck suddenly stopped and said:  
  
“Hey, priest!”  
  
”Yes, what is it?”  
  
“I was thinking; you said that one act cannot overturn a man’s entire character, and that doing one bad thing doesn’t mean someone isn’t virtuous.”  
  
”Yes; I said that, and I believe that.”  
  
”Yes, but... I have a question: if it’s possible to commit a sin and remain a virtuous person, is it possible to always act virtuous, and still be a sinner?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Kirei said, an ominous darkness falling over his eyes.  
  
“I’m asking you: if one can do evil, and still be good, can one also always act good, and still be evil?”  
  
Narbareck’s grin made Kirei’s heart skip a beat. He was certain that the woman in front of him was a demon.   
  
“Something to think about during our flight,” she said and stepped out into the rain.  
  


***


	6. Chapter 6

  
  
_Bohemian Forest_ _, Czechoslovakia_   
_South of Vimperk_

  
  
A large _Tatra_ army truck bumped along a dusty and winding country road, loudly making its way southwards, deeper and deeper into the Bohemian Forest.  
A crescent moon adorned the starry sky above, shedding some weak light on the woody hills and dales of southern Bohemia. Tall pine trees loomed threateningly over the narrow road which meandered through the forest and along the ever steeper hillsides. The truck had left the last human settlement over seven miles ago, penetrating the sprawling woodlands further.  
  
The thunderous roar of the old diesel engine was eardrum-piercing, but after over four hours of driving, the passengers grew accustomed to it.  
  
There were five passengers apart from the driver; four Executors and Narbareck.  
Only the latter didn’t seem to show any signs of fatigue due to the journey whatsoever, though Kotomine Kirei held pretty well himself.  
The remaining three men weren’t doing so good, and were suffering from nausea and back pain after having spent the last four hours sitting on a hard wooden bench in the back of the truck. Kirei mostly just stared absentmindedly through the rear opening at the winding road behind them.  
  
Narbareck, who was in the deepest corner of the truck, just behind the driver, was sitting calmly with her eyes closed and humming some obscure melody to herself.  
Her black Peter Cross was resting on her chest again, rather eye catching when set against her white sleeveless shirt.  
With her hands stuffed nonchalantly into the pockets of her coat, and wearing a blissful smile on her face, she puzzled her colleagues; they were on a hunting mission which would pin them against one of the most powerful Ancestors, and already inside the vampire’s territory, yet she was completely laid back and calm, as if they were on a harmless field trip.  
  
Seeing the other three Executors eying the leader of the Burial Agency in disbelief, seeing them squirm and sweat in bewilderment, Kirei couldn’t help but feel slightly gleeful.  
He wondered whether Narbareck acted like this on purpose in order to unnerve her companions. His lips twitched a little, as if starting to curl into a smirk, but he quickly regained control of himself.  
He sneaked a peek at Narbareck, worried that she might have seen him, but thankfully for Kirei she still had her eyes firmly closed.  
He didn’t really want to hear any more of her poisonous remarks; the conversation he had with her during their ride from the Vatican to the Rome Airport drained him of much of his mental energy.  
  
In order to suppress the tide of dark thoughts that had assaulted him after her final question, he tried his best to focus on the mission at hand; running over the battle ‘plan’ ( which was really mostly vague guidelines, making Kirei think that the head of the Burial Agency placed little importance on detailed strategies, and mostly relied on her own flexibility, planning things on the go ), going through the map of the place with which Narbareck provided them, to make sure that he has all the route memorized, and fumbled with his cross necklace out of sheer boredom.  
  
  
Suddenly the truck stopped, and the passengers all bounced a little at this unexpected halt.  
  
“This is it,” came a muffled voice of the truck driver, and the four Executors immediately rose from the benches and stepped out of the truck. Narbareck followed them after a few seconds, seemingly in no rush.  
  
The Executors took out a large crate from the truck and started distributing its contents among themselves; MP5 submachine guns, bayonets, pistols, and, of course, Black Keys - their armaments were truly formidable.  
Kirei, however, did not take any firearms, opting for only arming himself with a load of Black Keys.  
  
Narbareck raised an eyebrow at him as she took one suitcase out of the truck:  
  
”Aren’t you going to take any other weapons, priest?”  
  
”These will do,” he assured her, stretching his neck a little to overcome the stiffness that took hold of his body during the journey there.  
  
“Suit yourself,” Narbareck said and opened the suitcase.  
  
  
Inside was a most dizzying collection of knives that Kirei had ever seen.  
  
Two M1905 long army bayonets, over a foot long; two shorter M1 bayonets; tactical knives; a large Swiss pocket knife; a fruit knife; and, the jewel in the crown – a pair of cutlasses. They were over fifty inches long, with a silver basket-guard, and the wide curved blade was decorated with elaborate patterns near the hilt.  
  
Narbareck had all this weaponry blessed and coated in holy water back at the Vatican, after the Mass at St. Anne’s church had ended. Even in the hands of a less skilled fighter those would be extremely lethal anti-vampiric tools, and with Narabreck being the one to wield them, it was guaranteed that they’ll wreck havoc among the heretics.  
  
There was something else Narbareck had gotten after the Mass ended and the four Executors left the church – she took out a small bundle out of her pocket and threw it to Kirei.  
  
“Here, take this, priest. We might have a need for it soon.”  
  
”What’s that?”  
  
”You’ll see. Put it in your pocket for now, and be ready to take it out at a moment’s notice.”  
  
“Alright,” Kirei said and obediently placed the package into the pocket of his coat.  
  
Narbareck took her knives out of the briefcase and arranged them in numerous pockets and compartments on the inside of her coat.  
She then took out a pair of leather sheathes from the case, hung them on her back with their belts crossing on her chest, and placed her cutlasses in the scabbards.  
The only things left in the truck were two silver briefcases belonging to Kirei and Narbareck. Kirei’s bore a coat of arms of the Assembly of the 8 th Sacrament; Narbareck’s was blank. She pulled her fingerless leather gloves tighter over her hands, took the two cases out of the truck, and handed over Kirei’s to him. Now they were good to go.  
  
“Alright men, it’s time,” she commanded, “Kotomine, you stay behind me at all times. The rest of you watch the flanks. Move out.”  
  
Her silver case in hand, and her long black coat fluttering behind her in the gentle breeze, she headed boldly into the thick forest before her.  
The four Executors followed after her.  
  
The truck driver continued to gaze after them until they all disappeared into the darkness of the woods, and then drove back to the sleepy town of Vimperk. He would return here later in the morning to pick up those who survived the hunt.  
  
(...)  
  
  
As the team went deeper and deeper into the forest, they started to feel their hearts sinking, and the thicker the trees became the more did a feeling of dread creep into their minds.  
The starry sky was no longer visible as the sprawling branches of the black pines covered the skies completely. Even in the open space the pale moonlight wouldn’t be enough to properly illuminate their path, let alone in the belly of this monstrous forest.  
It was pitch black, but Narbareck had issued a strict order not to use any flashlights so as to avoid revealing their position. And while she had no problems finding her way around the forest in the dark, the four Executors who followed her were less skilled, and could just barely keep track of the silhouettes of the trees and their companions.  
  
The company slowly advanced southwards, navigating their way over creeks, crevices, logs, and ever steeper slopes of the hills of the Bohemian Forest.  
But neither the pitch black night nor the challenging ground bothered the men; they were used to operating in difficult terrain and testing their stamina to their maximum.  
What ate away at the minds of the Executors, and what strained their nerves almost to the breaking point, was a thick miasma that covered the entire forest. Like a suffocating, toxic mist, it covered the entire land. They could feel it from the moment they entered the woods, and with each passing step and with every minute they spent in the forest, the terror gripped their hearts tighter and tighter. They were anxious to get out, just a step away from running back and out of this cursed forest.  
However, they kept pressing on; both out of their discipline and sense of duty, and because they feared their team leader more than they dreaded the forest.  
  
In stark contrast to the nervous twitches and frightened glances of the Executors – save for Kirei who, albeit feeling very uncomfortable, wasn’t really overtaken by terror of the forest like the other three men – Narbareck showed no signs of being affected by the forest at all.  
There was no nervousness in her movements, no fear in her eyes; if anything, the deeper they penetrated into the forest, the more excited she seemed to get. The arduous journey through the woods did nothing to wear her down, and she energetically ran down the hill sides, climbed the rocks with ease.  
  
Kirei wondered if her twisted, evil mind somehow protected her from the effects of the forest’s miasma. However, a question quickly ( and involuntarily ) popped into his mind about why _he_ , too, showed resistance, after which he quickly cleared his thoughts and tried his best to just focus on navigating through the pitch black forest.  
  
The Executors who followed her from behind couldn’t see it, but Narbareck’s eyes gleamed in the darkness with thrill and joy. While the others were numbing down with each passing step, her heart pounded faster and faster – after sitting idly for a year, she was finally back outside. Living for the hunt, she couldn’t wait to finally catch her prey. She could barely suppress her bloodlust at that point.  
  
However, no matter her enthusiasm and her itching to fight, Narbareck was not satisfied. Even as she speeded through the forest, she didn’t fail to keep notice of her surroundings; rather than mindlessly dashing forward, she kept a close eye on the terrain. And what she was noticing didn’t please her.  
  
Finally, after they had climbed yet another hill, and ended up in another valley, she had to come to terms with her suspicion.  
  
“Stop. This is of no use – we’re going in circles.”  
  
The Executors’ hearts skipped a beat as they stopped dead in their tracks. They said nothing, but their bewildered looks spoke louder than words.  
Kirei approached Narbareck, distressed but still firm:  
  
”What’s going on?”  
  
”The bounded field is literally throwing us off the trail. We’ve passed this exact place already.”  
  
”How is that possible!? We’ve been constantly going south, I’m sure.”  
  
”Yeah, well, the boundary is probably messing with our sense of direction. At this rate we’re never going to get past it and find the castle.”  
  
”Then what the hell are we gonna do?” asked one of the other three Executors, a dark-haired man with a slight Spanish accent, who had overheard the conversation between Narbareck and Kirei.  
  
“Relax, kid,” she said with a condescending grin, “this is nothing unexpected.”  
  
”Nothing unexpected!?”  
  
”Yes. I thought something like this would happen. What? You guys didn’t honestly think we’d be able to storm an Ancestor’s castle just like that?”  
  
“But...”  
  
“Oh, quiet, I’m trying to think!”  
  
Narbareck put her briefcase down on the ground and walked a few steps away from her men, crouching down on a nearby boulder covered in moss as she fixed her gaze on the thick wall of trees at the far end of the valley.  
  
A few seconds passed in silence, with the Executors exchanging nervous glances. Kirei crouched next to Narbareck and followed her gaze.  
  
“What do you see?” he asked, straining his eyes to see past the faint silhouettes of the faraway trees.  
  
“Nothing,” came a cold reply. Narbareck clenched her fist, straining not only her eyes now, but _all_ of her senses.  
“But I can feel it.”  
  
”Feel what?”  
  
”Don’t rely on your eyes. Try to hear it. And sense it.”  
  
Kirei listened to her advice and closed his eyes. Surprisingly, his mind got much more focused, and he strained his nerves to try to ‘feel’ what was in the woods. It didn’t take him long to get some results.  
  
The miasma was deathly suffocating now, swirling around the valley even though the air was completely stagnant. The darkness was tangible and he had an ominous feeling of something hostile approaching them. There were no footsteps to be heard, no vibrations of the ground to be felt, but he was sure – something was coming.  
  
”We’ve been discovered,” Narbareck said and stood up.  
  
Kirei was a little impressed to see that she wasn’t wavering in the slightest; her eyes were stern and determined, her fists clenched and her muscles tense, ready for action.  
He looked back towards the three Executors – they had obviously felt that something was terribly wrong, too, as they got deathly pale and clutched their weapons more tightly.  
  
“What are we going to do?” Kirei asked in a hushed voice.  
  
“I had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but it looks like we have no choice,” the silver-haired woman said with a sigh, and turned to her men. She started issuing orders quietly but resolutely:  
“Alright, on your guard! Form a circle! Prepare your weapons and stick together. Don’t do anything without my order!”  
  
“As you command”.  
  
“And you,” she said, turning back to Kirei, “Put your case and your weapons aside for the moment. Time for you to play the role of a virtuous priest.”  
  
”What do you mean?”  
  
”Take out that thing I gave you earlier.”  
  
Kirei blinked once before the wheels in his head finally turned. He quickly reached into his pocket and took out the small bundle.  
  
“Unwrap it, quickly.”  
  
Her order was unnecessary, though, as Kirei did just that as soon as he had taken it out. He was expecting to find some weapon, but his expectations were off the mark – wrapped in some dirty cloth wasn’t any kind of weapon, but a candle.  
  
“A... candle?”  
  
”Not just any candle. Take a closer look.”  
  
Kirei looked down at the object. Even in the pitch black, he could see the Greek letter ‘alpha’ carved just an inch or two beneath the fuse. It was only a fragment of a candle, though, as it was clear that what he was holding was merely the top part of it.  
  
“I took the liberty of borrowing the portion of the candle in St. Anne’s church after the mass. Thought it could prove useful.”  
  
”This is a...”  
  
“... a Paschal candle, yes. I didn’t want to use it unless the push came to shove, but we’re out of options right now.”  
  
”And what do you need me for?”  
  
”Well, using this requires a virtuous priest,” she replied with a grin, “I trust that you know the _Exultet_?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
”Then move, and quickly! Get in the centre of the circle and set the candle up. Here’s a lighter, but only use it once you’ve finished the incantation.”  
  
  
Without another word, Kirei took the lighter from Narbareck and moved into the circle, surrounded by her and the other three Executors. Feeling the threatening darkness coming closer by the second, he wasted no time.  
  
He fell on his knees, stuck the candle into the ground, and started reciting the _Exultet_ , the holy prayer of the Paschal candle:  
  
 _” Accept this Easter candle,  
a flame divided but undimmed,  
a pillar of fire that glows to the honor of God.”_  
  
The miasma crept closer to them, and the stagnant air dried up completely.  
  
 _“Let it mingle with the lights of heaven  
and continue bravely burning  
to dispel the darkness of this night!”_  
  
One of the Executors started shivering, and the other coughing.  
Narbareck narrowed her eyes even more. Her gloves creaked as she started twitching her fingers, ready for action.  
  
Kirei continued with his chant, unperturbed by the outside world. He completely focused his mind on the prayer, kneeling before the white candle:  
  
 _“May the Morning Star which never sets  
find this flame still burning...”_  
  
The Executors released the safeties on their weapons, looking around nervously.  
  
 _“Christ, that Morning Star...”_ the chant went on.  
  
Kirei’s voice did not waver, and not a single drop of sweat appeared on his forehead. Narbareck bit her lip.  
  
 _“...who came back from the dead...”_  
  
There were silent creaks in the forest just a dozen yards away from the group, but they echoed like thunder.  
Narbareck bent her knees a little, like a predator ready to jump on its prey.  
  
The Executors raised their weapons, fingers on the triggers.  
  
 _“...and shed his peaceful light on all humanity...”_  
  
As Kirei started reciting the final sentence of the chant, the rustling became louder and closer.  
Narbareck reached back and drew out her cutlasses.  
  
 _“...your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.”_  
  
He lit the lighter and brought the flame to the fuse of the candle.  
  
 _”Amen.”_  
  
  
An explosion of light erupted in the middle of the forest.  
  
  
As strong as a lightning bolt, a pillar of blinding whiteness rose from the candle. All five of them were left dazzled by the sudden flare.  
  
A shockwave spread in all directions from the Paschal candle, obliterating the bounded field that covered the forest. Within a few seconds the formidable defences of Gransurg Blackmore’s castle lay in tatters, and it was left without any magical protection.  
However, it didn’t mean that it was left completely defenceless.  
  
While the candle continued to shine brightly, its powerful light illuminating the whole valley as if it were daytime, the initial explosion of light subsided within a second or two, and the five agents of the Church opened their eyes again.  
  
The sight that greeted them was that of hell.  
  
  
Only a few yards away, like a tsunami heading for the coast, a sea of the Dead was quickly advancing towards them. Dozens – no, _hundreds_ of ghouls were coming at the intruders, thirsty for human blood. With the magical boundary of the forest obliterated, they lost their stealth and invisibility.  
  
However, even without their protection, they still had the upper hand – not only did they have numerical superiority over the hopelessly outnumbered agents of the Church, but they managed to creep up to a distance of only a few yards by the time Kirei destroyed the bounded field. Even though they could finally see their enemy, it seemed as if it was too late for the Church’s vampire hunters to change the course of Fate.  
  
But Narbareck had no intention of giving up.  
  
“FIGHT!”  
  
With that battlecry, she plunged into the advancing tide of the Dead, swinging her silver cutlass above her head.  
  
There was no need for her ‘encouragement’ though, for the Executors opened fire as soon as they could see their targets. Their nerves were already at the breaking point when Kirei had finished his incantation, and they pressed the triggers of their weapons the second they saw the enemy in front of them.  
  
But it was all rather disorganised on their part; they panicked, shooting wildly into the mass of bodies in a desperate attempt to fend them off. Their volleys did manage to hold back the advancing enemy a little, but too many bullets were being spent, and too many of them failed to hit the heart or the head, so the wounded ghouls merely continued marching towards their enemies.  
The Executors had really lost their heads, and just randomly sprayed intense salvos rather than calming down and shooting in precise, controlled bursts.  
  
It didn’t take long before their panic started costing them their heads; one of the Executors got overwhelmed by the advancing Dead while he was reloading his submachine gun. Another one followed him within a few seconds after emptying the clips of his pistols.  
  
  
All of this unfolded so quickly that Kirei had barely stood up and took out his Black Keys when the second Executor had succumbed.  
Kirei wasted no time, nor did he allow his mind to be overcome with fear and panic. He faced the faceless crowd of the Dead and plunged into them with no hesitation, tightly clutching the Black Keys between his fingers.  
  
With a swift swing of his right arm, the sacred blades tore one ghoul’s head and neck into three pieces, and its lifeless corpse collapsed into a pool of blood on the ground.  
  
The Dead did not back away after this; if anything, they only rushed faster towards the priest. He cut them down without mercy.  
  
One ghoul was cut in half, the other pierced through the heart; another two killed in one stroke through their stomachs, followed by a swift and powerful cut upwards that spilled their entrails, collapsed their lungs, and pulverised their hearts.  
  
Pulling his blades from the decomposing corpses of his latest two victims, Kirei noticed two ghouls running towards him from the flank; with an explosive move of his right arm, he launched three deadly steel missiles towards them. Each Black Key hit its mark. The ghouls’ heads were split open and their brains splattered over the roots of the trees.  
  
Just as he had drawn three more Black Keys from his jacket, ready to fight a new wave of the Dead, Kirei took a quick peek behind him to see how the remaining fighters were doing. The third Executor, the raven-haired Spaniard, had already been devoured by the living dead, who were now descending upon the only other survivor on the other side of the opening.  
  
Kirei followed the tide of the ghouls with his gaze until he managed to locate their target.  
  
There, alone in the middle of the army of the Dead, stood Narbareck.  
  
Even the cold and collected Kotomine Kirei felt his jaw dropping a little at the sight. He was left speechless and in awe.  
  
  
Her eyes were glowing with the thrill of the hunt, with ecstasy of killing, and her wide and gleeful grin revealed her two shining fangs. It was truly a face of a demon.  
  
She moved around as if dancing, cutting down her enemies without a single pause or break to catch her breath. She wielded her two silver cutlasses with such skill and such speed, that Kirei could only see a bright silvery blur from time to time.  
  
While Kirei cut his enemies down with cold precision and deadly efficiency, Narbareck played with her prey. As opposed to Kirei’s quick and short blows, she danced around, making elegant yet unnecessary moves as she chopped the ghouls’ heads down.  
Whereas Kirei always aimed for the lethal spots, Narbareck would often toy with her enemy, chopping one limb at the time, obviously drawing immense pleasure from the act. She jumped, and dodged, rolled over, but with each and every move she made sure to make a cut or a slash, always landing a blow without fail.  
Kirei only saw a glimpse of her fight, as he had to quickly turn back to face his own opponents, but had he continued to watch, he would have been in for a spectacle.  
  
Narbareck brought her cutlasses together, placing them horizontally to the right of her body. With one explosive swing, she decapitated the ghoul in front of her, and even cut the throat of another coming from her left.  
  
She then spread her blades, and with a turn to her right and an accompanying swing of her right cutlass, she slashed another ghoul over its face. This slash was followed by a joint cut of its stomach with both blades as she crossed her arms in opposite directions.  
Then she placed her cutlasses on the ghoul’s shoulders, crossing the blades right under its bleeding throat, and with one fell swoop, cut off its head.  
  
Two Dead who were charging at her back were each met with a blade through their forehead as Narbareck just pointed her cutlasses backwards over her shoulders and, with a short and strong jerk, pierced their skulls.  
  
Another ghoul charged at her from the front, but with a lightening fast high kick of her leg, she literally blew its head off.  
  
Rotating her sabres a couple of times in her hands, she stepped forward and cut off the arms of the ghoul coming at her, then decapitated him, too.  
Two Dead used the opportunity to grab her by the shoulders - she just bent her knees, taking her centre of balance lower, and with a powerful swing from her hips, she pushed them both face first onto the ground, using her elbows and upper arms to send them on their merry way.  
The two ghouls quickly got up to their knees and turned towards her, huge trails of saliva coming out of their gaping mouths.  
Narbareck just shoved her cutlasses into their gobs and pierced their brains.  
  
  
As the indomitable number 1 of the Burial Agency continued to effortlessly cut down one ghoul after the other, the battle drew to a close.  
And it was just as well – Kirei was down to his last six Black Keys, so he opted to use them for hacking rather than throwing them at the Dead, even though this manner of fight was rather strenuous since the weapons were difficult to wield that way.  
  
Still, over a dozen ghouls paid with their heads for testing Kirei’s skills with the Keys; as the number one in his class, he wouldn’t have even had much problem beating the Dead with his bare hands ( something he was still a little reluctant to do, considering the overwhelming number of enemies he was facing ), let alone using the Black Keys for close quarters combat.  
  
Once he had dispatched the last remaining ghoul by turning on his toes and cutting him diagonally from hip to armpit – spilling all of its guts out in a bloody stream – Kirei took a deep breath and turned around to inspect the battlefield.  
  
The Paschal candle was still standing in the middle of the opening, casting eerie white light over hundreds of corpses scattered throughout the forest.  
A good portion of those had been taken out by Kirei, with some negligible contribution from the three dead Executors, but by far the largest part of the defeated ghouls had been killed by Narbareck.  
  
She stood there, some two dozen yards away from Kirei, looking perfectly calm. Her breathing was only slightly faster than before the fight, and she didn’t seem to have even broken a sweat. Even her ponytail was still in perfect shape, despite all her acrobatics during the carnage.  
Her black coat was splattered with lots of blood, though, as were her boots and her face. Huge drops of sticky, crimson red liquid were slowly dripping down the tips of her curved blades. The ornaments on the cutlasses were now almost completely obfuscated by the blood of the ghouls.  
  
And yet, she appeared to be completely composed.  
No, she didn’t just seem _calm_ – she looked _happy_.  
There was an expression of blissful satisfaction on her face; even the burning fire in her eyes seemed to have subsided a little following the carnage.  
  
“Are you alright?” said Kirei, more out of habit or politeness than actual concern.  
  
She didn’t immediately reply to him, waiting for a few long seconds and drawing a deep breath before she spoke:  
  
”Of course. Do I look hurt?”  
  
“You _are_ covered in blood.”  
  
“So are you, priest.”  
  
Kirei looked down on his clothes and saw that Narbareck was telling the truth; his black jacket and trousers had a few big blood stains. His shoes were completely soaked in blood, and there was even some on the edge of his golden cross. He quickly wiped it on his sleeve until the cross was speckles and shiny again.  
  
“I’m surprised you’re still alive,” she said, walking over to the part of the ground that wasn’t covered in corpses, and wiping her bloodied blades clean against the grass.  
  
“It seems Cardinal Naro really did give me one of his best men. Unlike Cardinal Rossi,” Narbareck said with a snigger, looking over the dismembered and disfigured corpses of the three fallen Executors.  
  
Her words and her attitude towards the dead men disturbed and angered Kirei. His righteous mind rebelled at such a pathological lack of any empathy.  
Her attitude was just _wrong_.  
  
“Show some respect for the dead.”  
  
“What good is my respect gonna do them? They’re already dead.”  
  
“Don’t you feel anything for your fallen comrades!?”  
  
Kirei's voice trembled with anger. However, he was perfectly aware that his anger at Narbareck and his brash attitude – for which this maniac might just take his life yet – were not really motivated by righteous feelings or respect for the dead. On the contrary; by questioning her for her lack of empathy, he wanted to avoid confronting his own lack of feelings for the dead men.  
  
His mind, molded by the righteous and virtuous teachings of his father and the Church, screamed that he should be feeling sorry for the fallen Executors, and be disgusted by Narbareck.  
  
But he just couldn’t.  
  
  
Narbareck once again looked deep into his eyes, and once again they told her the truth.  
  
‘I wonder to whom your question is directed, Kotomine Kirei,’ she mused to herself, but refrained from saying it out loud. Instead she said:  
  
”Of course not. They weren’t my comrades. Why should I feel anything for them?”  
  
”Not your comrades?? Then why did you ask us for our help on this mission!?”  
  
”Oh, I didn’t really _need_ you. All I needed were the things that are in these briefcases of ours. That’s why I contacted your Cardinals. Well, I guess I _did_ need someone to carry the other case – thought even that I can do myself - but as for the rest of you...” she said, waving nonchalantly towards the corpses of the Executors, “It was really just a whim. A meat-shield, if you will. You must have already realised that I could have taken care of this bunch all by myself.”  
  
“So you asked for men knowing fully well that they’d die? And you didn’t even try to do anything to help them!?”  
  
”And why should I help them? Those are their lives, not mine. Why should I be responsible for them?”  
  
”Because... you’re our leader, are you not?”  
  
”I think you got this all wrong, Kotomine,” Narbareck said,  
“I’m not your ‘leader’. You just happen to be following me. I prefer to hunt alone, to be honest. But considering the enemy I’m hunting now, I thought that having someone to serve as a distraction would be smart. If you don’t like this, you’re free to hand over that briefcase to me and go back home. I can go on from here on my own.”  
  
Kirei was at a loss for words. He knew that Narbareck was a monster, but her complete lack of emotion for anything besides killing disturbed him greatly. He was disturbed because, in a way, he felt like looking at himself in a mirror. His nature, which he constantly fought against and which he despised, was not that different from hers. Looking at the devil and seeing some of your own reflection was bound to disturb anyone.  
  
However...  
  
“No.”  
  
” ’No’ what?”  
  
”I won’t just back off and leave you with this case unguarded,“ he said, walking over to the candle, next to which he had left the silver briefcase, "I am a member of the Assembly of the 8 th Sacrament, and as such it is my duty to safeguard this holy relic.”  
  
The familiar combination of confident voice and empty eyes once again made Narbareck grin in sick amusement.  
  
“How admirable. Truly you’re a virtuous man, Kotomine Kirei. Well, then, let’s go,” she said, and picked up her own briefcase, “the dawn is approaching and the castle is nearby. Let us bring this hunt to a close.”  
  
Her silvery hair and her blood-stained coat fluttered behind her in a sudden gust of cold wind as she made her way across the valley and towards the hill to the south.  
  
After standing still for a while, Kirei picked up his case, collected some Black Keys from around the field, took a pistol from one of the dead Executors, and followed after her.  


***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify - the story is set in June 1992. Hence 'Czechoslovakia', which existed until 1993.  
> Also, the 4th HGW occured in 1995/1996, and Kirei left the Church to study under Tokiomi ~3 years prior to the War, so there.


	7. Chapter 7

  
  
The castle of the Lord of the Black Wing, Gransurg Blackmore, didn’t fail to impress Kirei; a black behemoth towering over a ravine at the bottom of which ran a wild stream, it instilled a sense of awe and terror into everyone who saw it.  
Well, almost everyone; Narbareck didn’t seem to pay much attention to the gargantuan castle. She barely even spared a glance at the countless towers and turrets that rose menacingly towards the dark skies above.  
Kirei couldn’t afford to gaze at the castle for long, either, for he had to watch his step as the two made their way along the ravine.  
  
A narrow goat path led up and down along the length of the canyon and towards the great castle. In the pitch black darkness of the night one could all too easily miss their step, which would momentarily send them tumbling down the rocky slopes and towards the river.  
Such a fall was something only a lucky few could hope to survive, and Kirei preferred not to test his fortune there.  
  
The two pressed on at a fast pace, and the massive black walls and towers of the fortress grew ever taller with each passing step.  
The goat path eventually brought them to one of the doors that opened right over the ravine and the river, and which led into the castle’s sprawling underground dungeons and cellars, dug throughout the hill and the cliff on which the castle stood.  
  
Much to Kirei’s surprise, the door at the end of the path was open.  
  
“What is this?”  
  
”What is what?”  
  
“The door. From what I understood from your instructions, we were supposed to break in here.”  
  
”You understood wrong.”  
  
”So this is normal??”  
  
”Yes. The fact that these doors are open means things are still going according to plan. I thought that the whole operation had been discovered when those ghouls intercepted us in the forest, but apparently not.”  
  
”Or this could be a trap.”  
  
”Yeah, that’s a possibility, too.”  
  
”And you still think we should just enter and go on as planned?”  
  
”Sure. We won’t know if it’s a trap if we don’t enter; and in case that it’s _not_ a trap, there’s no problem, right?”  
  
“Right... but, how come this door is open?”  
  
”We have an accomplice on the inside.”  
  
“You’re cooperating with someone from Blackmore’s coven?”  
  
”Yeah. He’s been providing us with valuable info for over a year.”  
  
Kirei decided not to comment on the fact that the Church was cooperating with heretical monsters such as vampires. Besides – seeing as how the Burial Agency had already openly admitted a Dead Apostle Ancestor into its ranks, this sort of covert cooperation seemed rather insignificant. So he decided to say nothing.  
  
“Alright, let’s go,” said Narbareck, lighting a torch that hung on the wall, and stepped into the castle. Kirei followed her with a torch of his own.  
“Be prepared, priest.”  
  
”Huh?”  
  
”We may have dispelled Blackmore’s bounded field over the forest, but this castle is another matter. There’s no doubt that they’ve detected our presence when we entered just now. Keep your Black Keys close at hand.”  
  
”Of course.”  
  
”And try not to get separated. I still need that relic in your briefcase, you know?”  
  
”I am touched by your concern for me.”  
  
Narbareck stopped in her tracks and turned around at Kirei’s last remark. He expected her to be angry, but to his surprise she didn’t seem to be at all insulted. On the contrary; a faint grin was on her face again, and that probably disturbed him way more than her anger would.  
  
“My... losing your inhibition already?”  
  
”...What?”  
  
“That sarcastic little comment of yours. It’s the first time you said something like that.”  
  
”I just... it suddenly came to my mind.”  
  
”Of course it did. It’s only natural,”  
  
”What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
”Oh, nothing, nothing,” she said, feigning a serious expression, “come – we’ve got to hurry, _priest_.”  
  
Narbareck had memorised the map of the building perfectly, and they navigated the underground maze of corridors without ever hitting a dead end. However, the closer they got to the upper levels, the higher was the likelihood of someone seeing them.  
  
Two floors up from their starting point they came across first of the guards.  
It was the first time either of them had come into contact with Blackmore’s minions, and their appearance left Kirei and Narbareck a little shocked and confused, even though they _had_ heard of them.  
Members of Blackmore’s coven were very unlike normal vampires, just like their master was unlike the other Ancestors. They all strived to model their bodies after those of the birds, and each one of them was unique in their own way; their jaws were shaped like bird beaks, they had feathery wings on their backs, and their feet were shaped similarly to those of birds.  
  
‘Freaks’, Narbareck thought to herself.  
  
Unable to go around them, and not knowing when the guards might move, they had no choice but to confront them.  
  
“How many Black Keys do you have?” Narbareck whispered, peeking around the corner of the hall in which the two guards stood, blocking their way.  
  
“Twelve.”  
  
“Alright, you do the honours.”  
  
She backed away and let Kirei come forward. He inspected the situation, measuring his distance, waiting for the guards to move into a favourable position.  
Once they were shoulder to shoulder, he took out two Black Keys from his jacket. There was a small glow as he materialised the holy blades, and it did not go unnoticed; one of the guards took a step towards them, observing the wall behind which the two hid with a suspicious eye.  
Kirei knew that there was no time for hesitation.  
  
He sprang out of his cover and threw the Black Keys in the direction of the vampires, praying for the weapons to hit their targets. They did.  
  
The first vampire got hit in the neck; as his throat started to bleed, his skin quickly became dry like sand, and his eyes turned from red to black. He fell onto the floor and turned to dust the moment his body hit the cold cobbles.  
The second vampire was killed even more quickly; a hit right in the middle of his chest turned his heart to ashes, and he died on the spot.  
  
Once the guards had been taken care of, Narbareck emerged from around the corner to join Kirei.  
Just then a third guard appeared at the far end of the corridor.  
  
He looked at the dead bodies of his two comrades, then at the two agents of the Church standing next to them.  
Kirei and Narbareck were, naturally, a little astonished when he appeared, but their shock paled in comparison to the terror that possessed the vampire once he saw Narbareck – the black Peter Cross on her chest became well known among the Dead Apostles after her first, and successful, Ancestor hunt over a year ago.  
  
As soon as she took a step forward the bird-vampire ran back as fast as he could, screaming and screeching in terror:  
  
”Alarm, alarm! Intruders!!!”  
  
“Oh, dammit, he’s gonna alert the whole damn castle now,” Narbareck said with a sigh.  
  
“I think we should hurry.”  
  
”Yeah. This is gonna get messy, priest. You sure you’re up to it?” she teased, drawing one of her cutlasses from her back.  
  
“Let us hope so, “ Kirei replied, and drew another three Black Keys.  
  
They exchanged a small nod of trust, clutching their weapons tightly, and then hurried down the corridor and up the stairs behind it, their nerves tense and ready to react at the slightest sign of danger.  
  
  
It didn’t take long for those signs of danger to appear.  
  
After climbing four flights of stairs and running down a corridor at the top of them, they found themselves in the entrance hall of the castle.  
It was an enormous room, shaped like the letter ‘U’, spanning the height of two floors, and was almost a hundred feet wide.  
Two staircases led from the ground floor to a pair of galleries, each supported by a series of ornate marble columns, which converged like a horseshoe at the far end of the hall. From these galleries numerous corridors led to other parts of the castle.  
But, most important of all, the gallery opened into the great hall, or the throne room, through a large, ancient wooden gate located at the point where the curves of the galleries converged.  
  
And Narbareck was willing to bet that that was where Lord Blackmore was. After a long and arduous hunt, her pray was finally within her reach.  
  
There was only one problem.  
  
  
The entire entrance hall was filled to the brim with Blackmore’s winged minions.  
  
The way to the gates of the great hall was guarded by well over a hundred vampires.  
Kirei was left in a slight shock after witnessing the sight – the winged vampires screeched and shouted like harpies, and there was an unmistakable killer look in their burning, red eyes. He looked at Narbareck to see her reaction; just as he had expected, she wasn’t at all perturbed by the situation, assessing it with an emotionless, steel gaze.  
  
However, her look did not remain blank for long – wheels turned quickly inside her head as she calculated the odds, weighing her strength against the awaiting battalion of enemies.  
Kirei could see fire of excitement starting to rise in her emerald eyes as thirst for blood started to take over her mind again. However, Kirei was worried.  
  
Yes, Narbareck had managed to kill some two hundred Dead on her own in the forest without even breaking a sweat, but each of these vampires was worth a dozen ghouls, at least. While the Dead had their numbers and their sheer stubbornness on their side, they were still little more than dumb, walking corpses.  
  
These vampires, on the other hand, possessed intelligence, cunning, monstrous strength, and weapons, even if it was only in the form of razor-sharp claws.  
Taking even up to a dozen of them wouldn’t be that hard of a task for an Executor as skilled and experienced as Kirei, and Narbareck was a monster far above his league, but he still had doubts. There were two of them against a hundred of those winged beasts.  
He looked a little indecisive, and Narbareck noticed that.  
  
“Are you scared?”  
  
“Not really. I just doubt that we can win.”  
  
”You’re not scared?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Then you are a fool.”  
  
”Why is that foolish?”  
  
”Because only a fool would not be afraid of these monsters.”  
  
”And you? Are _you_ afraid?”  
  
She snickered at his question, and then replied, her eyes burning with hellfire:  
  
”No. I’m the bigger monster.”  
  
With those words, she dropped her suitcase from her left hand, drew out her other cutlass, and charged into the mass of vampires.  
Kirei dropped his own case, made a sign of cross on his chest, and followed after her, clutching six Black Keys between his fingers.  
  
  
The vampires were being mown down before Narbareck like wheat.  
  
One of them swung his right arm at her, intending to rip her head off with his long, steel-hard claws, but she blocked his arm with her left cutlass, and pierced his neck with her right. The winged monster didn’t even have the time to be stunned by how a mere human had managed to match him in strength and stop his blow. It turned to ashes after being smitten by a blade coated in holy water, and its remains fell to the ground.  
  
Narbareck wasted no time, and swung her right cutlass in a wide arch to the right, cutting the throat of another vampire. A third monster came at her from the front, trying to ram through her chest with his claws, but she dodged the blow, cut off his arm, and then stabbed him in the face.  
  
While the pile of ashes beneath Narbareck’s feet started to grow larger and larger, and she penetrated deeper into the mass of bird-vampires, Kirei wasn’t slacking off, either.  
  
  
Though the Black Keys really weren’t the best weapon to use in close quarters combat, he was too short on them to be able to afford to use them as missiles. So instead of just nailing him with a single Black Key, he cut off an attacking vampire’s arm and then decapitated him.  
  
Two more vampires came from the front, one attacking him from above and one from his right. He crouched and then threw himself to the left to avoid both blows. He rolled on the floor a few times to get to a safe distance, then rose back to his feet and took a defensive posture; his arms crossed in front of his chest and the Black Keys pointing over his shoulders.  
  
His enemies weren’t going to give him any respite, and charged at him with full force.  
Kirei didn’t remain idle, but stepped forth towards the vampires. One of them aimed straight at his head, and the other swung from the left and below, up towards his spleen.  
Kirei followed the trajectories of their claws closely, waiting for the right moment to spring into a counterattack.  
When the vampires were just one step away from him, he finally retaliated; he spread his arms apart in one tremendous swoop, moving his right horizontally to the right in order to intercept the claws which were aiming for his head, and his left diagonally down to protect his side.  
It all happened in a blink of an eye.  
  
The vampire who was aiming for his head had his right arm sliced into four pieces, and the other one lost his hand and whole forearm.  
Kirei breezed between them, his arms stretched behind his back, then turned on his heel, and, bringing his arms together again, chopped both their heads off.  
  
  
He had no time for celebration, though, as five more vampires headed his way to replace the fallen ones.  
He was being driven towards the stairs, where even more vampires awaited. Kirei realized that he would be overwhelmed and killed off in less then a minute if he tried to fight them all at once at close quarters, and so immediately made a decision.  
  
Before the two decapitated vampires even fell to the ground, the deadly Executor launched a volley of Black Keys towards the incoming wave of enemies. All blades managed to hit their targets.  
Blessed steel pierced their chests, stomachs, and heads, and they all stumbled and then fell to the ground at Kirei’s feet, turning to ashes.  
  
He turned towards the stairs, creasing his brows and weighing his chances. All he had left were four Black Keys and a pistol with a single clip, and considering the number of enemies he was facing, those supplies were sure to dry up within seconds, a minute at most if he opts for more hand-to-hand combat.  
Still pondering what to do next, he looked down from the stairs to see how Narbareck was doing.  
  
  
He immediately noticed that the ranks of Blackmore’s minions had grown much thinner since the time they entered the hall.  
  
It was difficult to judge how many had fallen since they all turned into ashes, but he was certain that she had already taken some twenty or thirty vampires out, and was showing no signs of stopping or even slowing down. Even though her current enemies were much tougher than the Dead that she annihilated back in the woods, she dispatched them with about the same amount of effort, but much more vigour.  
  
Five vampires encircled her, but she just stepped over one of them to break out of of the circle and then proceeded to cut each one of them into pieces, tearing their limbs from their bodies, chopping their heads off, cutting their hearts out.  
  
Another vampire managed to grab her from behind, and threw her a dozen yards across the hall. She didn’t rise back to her feet at first, and just crouched on all fours, fixing her eyes on the winged monster.  
Her eyes were burning with an uncontrollable passion, and she looked like a beast ready to leap forward after its prey. Even the vampire who threw her, a tall beast with giant gray wings, wavered a little after she looked at him like that.  
He hesitated for a moment, and it cost him his life.  
  
Narbareck immediately jumped at the opportunity, rising back on her feet and charging forward like a runaway train.  
She crossed the distance in a split second, her superhuman speed taking the vampire completely by surprise. She shoved her left cutlass into his abdomen, and her right into his neck. She then violently pulled both and simultaneously spilled his guts and chopped his head off.  
  
In one moment the vampire was standing, ready to take Narbareck on, and in the next his lifeless body fell to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, and crumbled into dust.  
  
  
But Narbareck didn’t stop to gloat over her vanquished enemy; more attackers came into her sight, more prey she was dying to kill.  
  
She lunged forward to dodge a blow, rolling two times before standing up and turning around to face her enemies who were now just mindlessly screaming and swinging at her, without order but also without fear.  
However, their bravery did them no good.  
  
Narbareck parried their blows to the side, then turned on her heel as the two assailants stumbled forward, having been thrown out of trajectory and out of balance. She quickly lowered her cutlasses into their backs, right between their shoulder blades.  
She held her blades inside them for a few seconds, took them out, and kicked the vampires with her right leg. More dust fell onto the ground, and more blood stained Narbareck’s swords and her clothes. Her black leather coat was now almost completely drenched in the sticky vermillion.  
  
  
Most of these feats went unnoticed by Kirei, as he had his own foes do face.  
  
He was halfway up the stairs, and on top of them stood three winged monsters, screeching and shouting at him. They had the advantage of the higher ground, and trying to just push through them might turn out to be a mistake.  
  
Of course, he could probably easily eliminate them with a volley of Black Keys, but then he’d be down to only one. While he was pondering what to do, the fact decided for him; the three vampires started to advance towards him, and spreading out in order to encircle him.  
  
He was in a very unfavourable situation, and so decided to resolve it in the quickest and simplest manner possible; he took out three Black Keys and threw them in the direction of his attackers. Two of them hit the bulls-eye, piercing the vampires’ hearts. However, the third blade failed to deal a lethal blow, and only hit the vampire in his leg. It was still effective, for the wounded monster fell down the stairs and broke its neck, removing the need for Kirei to finish it off himself.  
  
  
His triumph was short-lived, however, as a whole new group of vampires blocked the top of the stairs.  
  
There were even more of them now, and Kirei was quickly running out of weapons. He drew out his pistol and sprayed the beasts with lead. His efforts were useless, though, as even those bullets that managed to find their targets failed to deal any significant damage; the vampires quickly regenerated such superficial wounds.  
  
Left with only a single Black Key and his own fists, Kirei took a step back, ready to launch his last missile. The vampires wasted no time, having realized that he was almost completely out of ammo, and charged down the stairs.  
  
Just as Kirei was about to throw the last Black Key between the leading vampire’s eyes, their charge stopped and the five monsters collapsed into ashes before Kirei. It all played out in a split second, and it took him a moment to realise what had happened.  
  
“Don’t use that, priest, not yet.” Narbareck shouted.  
  
Kirei nervously glanced over the railing of the staircase at the hall below.  
  
Narbareck was standing in the middle of it, surrounded by piles of dust and ashes.  
  
She had stopped the charge of the vampires with a volley of her knives and bayonets, and Kirei was amazed that she had managed to hit all of her marks considering the circumstances. Still, there was no time for idle chat.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
”You’re welcome. Now move on, I’ll meet you at the gates.”  
  
With that, she returned to slashing and hacking, while Kirei dashed his way to the top of the stairs.  
  
There were only three more vampires left in his way; the others deemed Narbareck to be the bigger threat, and focused their attention on stopping her. It suited Kirei just fine.  
  
He took a stance some seven or eight yards away from the vampires, facing them sideways, one arm in front of him, the other behind his head. He stared at his opponents with steel eyes, inviting them to come to him.  
  
Kirei completely cleared his mind, now no longer a human being, but merely a machine whose only purpose was to kill. The vampires shuddered a little when they saw the abyss in the eyes of the priest. Nevertheless, they couldn’t wait forever – they gathered their courage and charged at him.  
  
  
Taking the first vampire out was easy enough – it came straight at Kirei, trying to strike before he could even react, putting its faith in its superior speed and power. Kirei was quick to punish this overconfidence.  
  
He dodged the blow by moving his torso out of the line of attack, and then, as the vampire came just inches away from him, struck him in the stomach with his knee.  
The blow was monstrous – organs were crushed inside of the soft belly, blood vessels ruptured, and blood started gushing out of the winged creature’s mouth. Its fate had already been decided, but Kirei still managed to find space to deal a finishing blow, and broke the vampire’s neck.  
  
Then came the second vampire’s turn. He was coming right behind the first one, but he lost his vigour when he saw the young Executor defeating his comrade with a single blow.  
  
Kirei took advantage of his moment of hesitation, and delivered a skull-smashing blow to the vampire’s head with his right leg. It failed to kill the monster, so he grabbed it by the neck and threw it over the edge of the gallery and down to the hall below. A sound of its neck breaking was drowned in the noise of the other vampires below as they kept attacking Narbareck.  
  
Kirei took guard again, locking his eyes with those of the last remaining vampire; this one seemed braver than the second, for he didn’t waver even after seeing the Executor dispatch the first two with his own bare hands. Kirei expected some trouble from his third opponent, but was still confident enough in his own skills that he opted not to use his last Black Key yet.  
  
The two were locked in a stand-off for a while, and then they both broke out of it at once, leaping forward towards their opponent.  
The vampire swung from Kirei’s left, aiming for his neck. He couldn’t dodge to his right because the enemy already started taking a swing with his left leg, so Kirei had to dodge that, too. He managed to slow down with his last step, and changed his course a little to the left at the last moment.  
  
He parried the arm to stop its deadly claws from tearing his head off, and got behind the vampire’s back.  
He grabbed him by the neck with his left hand, pulled him back and out of balance, and as the vampire started falling back and towards the ground, Kirei swung his hips and delivered a tremendous elbow-punch to his chest.  
The vampire died on the spot as its ribcage got completely crushed.  
  
Kirei threw the dead body aside where it promptly turned to ashes, and leaned on the railing of the gallery to see the battle below as it rapidly approached its end.  
  
  
Narbareck was fighting bare-fisted now, too, her cutlasses tucked into the leather sheathes on her back. Kirei couldn’t help but feel hopelessly outclassed as he watched her wreck havoc among the remaining vampires.  
She, too, utilised some sort of martial art, but considering her strength, no special techniques were needed, at least in Kirei’s opinion.  
  
She knocked one vampire’s head off with a single punch. She ripped the other’s arm off with a tremendous jerk, and broke the third one’s back just with the force of her arms, not needing to use her knee and hips to help her snap the monster’s spine.  
Another vampire got its jaw ripped out. The fifth one she hit in the stomach with such a force that her arm ripped all the way through his abdominal wall, intestines, blood vessels, and finally tore through his back to the other side.  
  
The vampires’ numbers were dwindling fast as the goddess of death continued to slaughter them one at a time, in the most savage and gruesome manner imaginable, to the point of strangling one vampire with his own intestines.  
  
  
Finally, some two minutes after Kirei had beaten his final enemy, Narbareck extinguished the life of the last remaining vampire in the hall.  
  
Breathing heavily, she looked up towards Kirei. She looked positively ecstatic.  
  
Her leather coat was now soaked in blood and entrails, her boots, gloves and trousers were in a similar condition, and her sleeveless white shirt had turned crimson. Even her silvery hair got spattered with some red. The only clean and white things on her now were her fangs, which she was showing with small, distorted smirk.  
  
“You done?” Kirei asked in a flat voice.  
  
“Yes,” she said shortly, her breathing now almost back to normal.  
  
She went to collect the two briefcases which they had left by the side entrance to the hall, and then climbed up the stairs to the gallery and joined Kirei.  
  
“Say, what was that martial art you used?” she aked him, looking genuinely curious.  
  
“Baijiquan, “ he replied, “I learned it from my father.”  
  
“Heh, is that so? Well, in any case, it’s a rather impressive fighting style. I’m thinking of taking some classes once I’m back to Rome. It seems rather... efficient.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
”Oh, and before I forget: please give me that last Black Key of yours.”  
  
”What?”  
  
“I’ll be needing it. I’m thinking of performing a special trick for the lord of this castle, and I’m afraid I can’t do it with my cutlasses.”  
  
”Alright... Here you go,” Kirei said and gave his last remaining blade to Narbareck.  
  
“Thanks. Well. Ready for the grand finale?” she said to him as she handed him his briefcase.  
  
He replied with a small nod.  
  
“Alright then, let’s go.”

 

***


	8. Chapter 8

 

The gates of the castle’s great hall flung open, and two agents of the Church bravely ventured into the belly of the monstrous castle.   
  
There, lined up against the walls and gathered around the towering marble pillars, were the elite of Blackmore’s court.   
They were obviously the vampire aristocracy, for their attire was elegant and they wore expensive jewelry. They, too, had bodies altered in the image of birds, but unlike the grotesque soldiers that had guarded the entrance hall, these vampires were much more dignified and graceful in their appearance. One could not in good faith compare them to angels, but neither were they monstrous harpies.  
  
Some of the vampires, though, wore steel rather than silk, and carried spears and swords; those were Gransurg Blackmore’s personal bodyguards, an elite group of vampires that was, within the coven, second only to Blackmore himself in power and prestige.  
  
The black lord of the castle was sitting in a tall, black throne at the opposite end of the hall. His appearance was at the same time both grotesque and regal, and his presence eclipsed those of the other vampires in the coven.   
  
Kirei’s eyes were drawn away from the monumental pillars and the vaulted ceiling, away from the burning eyes of the vampire nobles that glittered in the shadows of the flickering fires like pieces of charcoal. Sitting calmly in his throne, glancing absent-mindedly over the hall towards the two intruders, the great Ancestor Blackmore demanded Kirei’s undivided attention.  
  
  
A strange hybrid between a crow and a human, he had wings spanning almost six yards across. His feet were like those of a bird, and he had long black claws in the place of his fingernails. Locks of his long, black hair, almost completely obscured his face. His stone-cold lips were closed tightly, but tips of his two long fangs were still visible in the corners of his mouth.   
Kirei could feel the gaze of the vampire’s hidden eyes piercing him like a dagger.  
  
“Greetings, Lord of the Black Wing,” said Narbareck as she descended the stairs to the floor of the throne room.   
  
Kirei followed, but remained a step or two behind her. The gates of the hall closed shut as soon as they had entered. Kirei couldn’t help but feel like they had just walked into a mousetrap.  
  
“Quite a lovely castle you’ve got here,” Narbareck continued, after getting no reply from Blackmore or anyone in his retinue, “But I’m afraid your entrance hall will need a good cleaning.”  
  
“So you’ve defeated them all. You do live up to your reputation, Director.”  
  
”Yeah. You might wanna think of finding yourself some better minions. This lot barely managed to put up a fight.”  
  
“Cocky and a braggart. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. For it was your last one,” said the vampire lord.  
  
His words were threatening, but he uttered them with what was bordering with pure boredom.   
The two warriors of the Church that had just obliterated his castle’s defences and guards seemed like merely two annoying mosquitoes that only managed to stay alive for so long because he hadn’t bothered to deal with them seriously.   
He said it not as a threat, but as if it were _fait accompli_.   
  
But Narbareck had different ideas.   
  
“My last fight? But there are still some of you left alive.”  
  
“Yes. However, I do believe that a ‘fight’ has to be _two-sided_. Whereas you will just get killed right away. I can promise you that.”  
  
“So confident in your powers?”  
  
” _My_ powers? I’m afraid you got it wrong; I’m not going to waste my strength on vermin such as yourself. Guards.”  
  
Blackmore nonchalantly waved his hand, and six of the winged vampires wearing steel armour and helmets stepped forward. These were each as strong as half a dozen of those vampires that Narbareck had slaughtered in the entrance hall, but Kirei had by then stopped worrying about any of these vampires posing a real threat to Narbareck.  
  
Save for the Lord Blackmore himself, he doubted that any creature in this castle was a match for her.  
  
Narbareck herself didn’t even bat an eye as the six vampires formed a line between her and Blackmore, pointing their spears at her.  
  
“You think these are going to stop me, Black Wing?”  
  
“I think that you won’t be leaving this castle alive,” Blackmore said, his voice suddenly colder than the steel in the hands of his bodyguards.  
Narbareck just shot him a grin of definace.   
  
The vampire lord sniffed in contempt and said, in a flat voice:  
”Kill them.”  
  
His guards obeyed, and took a step forward.   
  
Narbareck was waiting for just that.  
  
She took out the Black Key that Kirei had given her out of her coat. The guards took another step forward.  
Then, in one swift motion, Narbareck twisted her body, stretching the arm in which she held the Black Key, and with another twist in the opposite direction, threw the blade at the group of advancing vampires.  
  
In the split second during which she executed her throwing technique, everyone, including Kirei, snickered at her – a single Black Key wouldn’t do much against six heavily armed guards, so her action was rather pointless. It seemed more like an act of desperation.   
  
However, they were all proven wrong.  
  
  
The holy blade cut through the air with a loud swish, traversing the distance in only a fraction of the time that it would take with a normal throw.  
  
Then, as it collided with the ground under the guardsmen’s feet, all hell broke loose.  
  
There was a massive explosion, accompanied by a flash of blinding yellow and white light, and the entire throne room shook from the impact. Thunderous noise of the blast continued to echo throughout the castle for some time.  
Soon the banging in everyone’s ears stopped and the smoke over the impact site cleared, allowing everyone to see the effects of Narbareck’s attack - a large crater in the cobbled floor, and smoldering remains of the six vampires.  
  
No one in the room could believe their eyes. A single attack had obliterated six heavily armed vampires at once.   
  
It was the Burial Agency’s secret technique – _“Iron Plate Effect”_ – which allowed them to utilise even regular Black Keys in the most deadly manner possible, and to wreck havoc among the heretics.  
  
Narbareck allowed herself a small and gleeful cackle, obviously proud of her handiwork and entertained by the disbelief of everyone present. Except Blackmore, who barely batted an eye over this sudden annihilation of some of his strongest soldiers.   
Even if Narbareck’s deadly technique surprised him, the ancient vampire lord retained his poker face.  
  
“What did you do?” he asked calmly.  
  
“I killed them. Isn’t it rather obvious?”  
  
”That brash attitude... funny - you remind me of someone I know.”  
  
”You mean Merem? Yeah, his mouth is sometimes too big even for my taste.”  
  
“Right,” Blackmore said tiredly, “You know, you are quite talkative for someone just seconds away from death.”  
  
”Well, _carpe diem_ and all that; better have as much fun as I can before I die. But, you seem awfully confident for someone who just lost a quarter of his guards.”  
  
”And _you_ seem awfully confident for someone who’s out of their holy weapons. You have no more Black Keys, you won’t be able to carry out that attack again.”  
  
”Who says I don’t have any more of ‘em?”  
  
” _I_ do,” Blackmore said, his lips curling a few millimeters into a faint ghost of a smile.  
  
Narbareck and Kirei could feel a dark and menacing aura starting to spread from Blackmore; he was still perfectly still and composed, but his murderous instincts had started to boil beneath the cold and seemingly disinterested surface.  
  
The dragon was finally starting to awaken.  
  
“Tell, me, Director,” the Ancestor said, rising to his feet, “do you believe in Hell?”  
  
”I’m not particularly religious, I’m afraid.”  
  
”And yet you carry a cross around your neck.”  
  
“A trinket I got from my mother.”  
  
“My. I never would have thought that you’re a sentimental type.”  
  
”Well, I’m full of surprises.”  
  
“Indeed. And, coincidentally, so am I.”  
  
  
With that, Blackmore took a step forward, his crimson eyes fixed on Narbareck.  
  
His each step echoed eerily against the cold stonework of the ceiling. The killer aura was nigh tangible now.  
  
Narbareck was still wearing a cocky smile on her face as she faced off the approaching vampire lord, but beneath her confident facade, her heart started pumping faster and faster.  
  
“That’s good. I love surprises. The routine wears me down.”  
  
“Insolent until the end, huh?” Blackmore said as he kept walking towards her.   
He sniggered condescendingly at Narbareck, who was now only a few yards away.  
  
“Well, that’s just how I am.”  
  
“I’m looking forward to ending your life,” he said. And he meant it.  
  
Narbareck had damaged his prestige by invading his own castle, his safe haven for almost one thousand years. She was humiliating him in front of his court by talking back to him like that. And she was now challenging him to a duel with her; not only forcing him to waste his strength on her, but insulting him by trying to present herself as being an equal to him.  
  
It bothered him, bothered him more than he’d be comfortable to admit. She had to die, and quickly. The look in Blackmore’s eyes could freeze one’s blood in their veins.  
  
And yet she remained defiant.  
  
“I’m looking forward to seeing you try, Gransurg Blackmore.”  
  
  
That did it.   
  
Narbareck uttered his name on purpose, and her provocation worked.  
  
 _“You will die here and now.”_  
  
Blackmore’s voice sounded distorted, and as if coming from a large distance.  
  
In an instant, the whole scenery changed.  
  
  
Instead of in the middle of the throne room, Narbareck and Blackmore were standing atop one of the castle towers.   
Glancing around to get a grip of the situation, Narbareck noticed that the crescent Moon was no longer shining in the sky. That alone wouldn’t have meant much had she not also noticed that all the stars had disappeared, as well. And the sun was nowhere to be found, either, even though by her calculation the dawn was about to break at any second. In fact, there was nothing to be seen in the pitch black skies, not even the tiniest cloud or a speck of light.   
  
It was the vampire lord’ turn to grin cruelly now, as Narbareck looked around with a puzzled look in her eyes.  
  
“So... this is your power, eh, Blackmore?” she said, clutching her briefcase tighter, and looking at the charcoal black sky above.   
  
A familiar miasma had started to fill the air around her, only this time it was much more suffocating. The invisible toxic fog was so dense that she could practically feel it on her skin. A slight pain in her chest alerted her to her heart’s ever stronger and faster beating.  
  
The Lord of the Black Wing shot her a sadistic and gleeful grin, enjoying the sight of Narbareck’s helplessness.  
  
“Yes. Welcome, my lady, to _Nevermore_ ,” Blackmore said, and waved his hand at the sky.  
  
Suddenly the heavens moved.  
  
  
Narbareck looked up and saw that there was a massive flock of black birds swirling above the castle. They seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and their numbers were increasing by the hundreds with each passing second. The perfectly synchronised movements of the flock left Narbareck with an impression that it was all one single and huge organism.   
  
“Impressive,” she said, taking a step back away from Blackmore.   
  
Her movement did not escape the vampire’s attention.  
  
“Are you thinking of running away?”  
  
”Of course not,” she replied, taking another step back to secure the distance between herself and Black Wing.  
  
“There is no escape, you know? You will die here.”  
  
”I’d very much prefer to live, actually.”  
  
“Even now, you insist on being insolent... I assure you that you’ll pay for it.”  
  
”Well, I’m not seeing you doing anything yet. Are you all talk, Blackmore?”  
  
She took yet another step back. Now, she had a good distance, she assessed.   
  
“Be careful, Narbareck. Do you really crave death so much? Because...” he said, pointing towards the swirling flock above them, “the birds dancing in my sky are vicious only to the dead.”  
  
As he uttered those words, the toxic miasma started to suffocate Narbareck. Her sight got blurry, and her limbs felt numb.   
She fell onto her knees, pressing her silver briefcase against her chest. Through the creeping darkness came Blackmore’s voice, freezing the blood in her veins:  
  
 _”Time to die.”_  
  
Looking up, she could hear the gigantic flock of birds quickly descending towards her, the deafening flapping of their wings making it unable for her to hear her own thoughts.   
  
Death was coming for her. It was only seconds away.  
  
But she would not just give in. Not without a fight.  
  
“No.”  
  
She laid her briefcase in front of her and opened it.   
Before her was her last weapon, and her last hope. A black book.   
  
She hurriedly pushed the case aside and put the book in front of her. Blackmore saw it, and started chuckling:  
  
”A Bible? I think it’s a little too late for prayers, don’t you think?”  
  
She paid no heed to the demonic vampire, and flipped through the pages of the bible in frenzy. It was a race with time, as the menacing black cloud crept closer and closer, inch by inch. The noise of the wings grew louder, but she removed her mind from the outside world as much as she could, focused only on finding the right page.  
  
Finally, near the very end of the book, she found the passage she was looking for.  
  
”I thought you didn’t believe in God. And in any case, God will not help you now,” Blackmore said with a sneer.  
  
It suddenly brought a grin to Narbareck’s face; she looked up at the vampire, her eyes glowing in the darkness, and her lips curled into a twisted smile.  
  
“It is not God’s help that I’m seeking.”  
  
Blackmore stepped back, shocked by the expression of her face, which in turn filled her heart with sadistic glee. She turned her eyes back to the pages of the book.  
  
Indeed, as death crept nearer, Narbareck didn’t turn to God for help. It was not His grace that she could save her now. Her salvation lay in this, most powerful, and the most unholy weapon that the Church possessed.  
  
  
Alien Stomach World.  
A Holy Scripture made out of a defeated vampire’s innards.  
The ultimate weapon against the Dead Apostles.  
  
  
Narbareck traced down the page to find her passage.   
  
As the roar of Blackmore’s army came within a few yards of her, she began reciting her chant:  
  
” _The seventh angel sounded his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, which said: ‘The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.’_ “  
  
As the holy words of the Apocalypse rolled over her tongue, there was a bright flash of light radiating from the black Bible. It spread through the floor, down the walls of the tower, and further out, eventually engulfing the entirety of the castle like a spider’s web.  
The blue glow was dispelling the darkness of death.  
  
Blackmore’s eyes widened in terror; he knew he had to stop Narbareck, to prevent her from reading the rest of passage. He didn’t know what exactly would happen if she finished reading it, but he had a strong feeling that the result would be disastrous for him.   
And yet, he felt completely paralyzed, and could do nothing.  
  
Narbareck continued to read, her left hand spread across the Bible, and her right clutching the black cross on her chest:  
  
 _”Then God's temple in heaven was opened, and within his temple was seen the ark of his covenant”_  
  
Earth started to shake, and the black heavens began crumbling.   
Blackmore was petrified with horror as his world, his mighty Reality Marble, began to collapse.   
  
He turned to Narbareck, who read out the last sentence:  
  
 _“And there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, an earthquake and a great hailstorm.”_  
  
She raised her head, and locked her gaze with Blackmore’s. Her eyes were shining with fire of the pits of hell. She grinned one last time, and screamed from the top of her lungs:  
  
 _”AMEN!”_  
  
  
And with that, the world around them disintegrated.   
The cloud of black birds was swallowed by a pillar of blinding light that rose from the black book. A hailstorm of fire brought the dark heavens tumbling down onto the castle.   
An earthquake split the hill beneath it into two, and within seconds the bottomless abyss swallowed the great fortress, along with Blackmore and Narbareck.  
  
  
Seconds later, the two were back in the castle’s throne room.   
  
While Narbareck expected to land into a hostile environment, with Kotomine already killed by the remaining vampires, everyone was in the exact same place as before they left, making her realize that all the events that transpired in _Nevermore_ had in the real world occurred within a fraction of a second.   
As far as the outsiders were concerned, the two probably never even left.  
  
While she remained on alert and ready to react to the slightest sign of danger, it turned out that there was no need for it.   
The entire court remained silent and motionless when the two reappeared in the normal world, and Narbareck managed to put the Alien Stomach World back into the briefcase without anyone noticing it. She rose to her feet, calmed her breathing a bit, and finally looked up to see what had happened to Blackmore.   
As soon as she saw him, she realised why the rest of the people present were so quiet and seemingly paralyzed.  
  
The Holy Scripture hadn’t just obliterated Blackmore’s Reality Marble; it also directly injured the vampire. While Narbareck, the wielder of the Scripture, returned without a scratch, Blackmore was not in very good condition.   
He looked like he had just been run over by a truck; collapsed on the floor, full of bruises, with a small trail of blood coming out of his mouth. He was barely conscious, and in no condition to even stand up on his own, let alone fight. It was a total victory for Narbareck.  
  
However, there were vampires there who did not plan on letting her get away with it.  
  
“Men, to arms!” one of the armed vampires said, drawing his sword.   
  
Several other vampires joined him, pointing their spears at Narbareck.   
But not all of them.  
  
“Now,” she said, looking at a vampire who was standing behind the eager captain calling for action.  
  
  
The vampire nodded and sprang into motion - he drew his sword and stabbed the leader of the guards in the back. Other guards, who had not yet answered their captain’s call to arms, took this as their queue and suddenly sneaked behind the backs of their comrades who were loyal to Blackmore and slaughtered them, cutting their throats or stabbing them through their chests.   
  
Kirei and the rest of the vampire court could not believe their eyes; the traitorous guardsmen, whose leader had been cooperating with Narbareck, executed a coup in a split second. They threw the bleeding bodies of their comrades onto the ground and the corpses quickly turned into ashes, leaving only empty armour and weapons behind them.  
  
The whole thing played out so fast that most of the people present were left with their eyes and mouths opened wide while their brains processed the things that had just happened.  
  
While shock still reigned, Narbareck took the opportunity and approached the leader of the traitors:  
  
”It is done. You’re the head of the coven now, and Blackmore is ours. With that, our deal is fulfilled.”  
  
”Yes.”  
  
”We’ll be taking Blackmore with us now. I trust we won’t be having any trouble on our way back.”  
  
”Of course not. I give you my word.”  
  
”Hm...”  
  
Narbareck turned away from her conspirator, one who had been supplying the Burial Agency with information about Blackmore for the past year, with a look full of mixed feelings; she would like nothing better than to slaughter them all now – and she _could_ do it, albeit surprise would be crucial – but she recognised the strategic benefits of having someone loyal and dependent on you in charge of what was still one of the greatest covens in Europe.  
  
She walked over to Kirei, who was still in a state of shock after seeing a Dead Apostle Ancestor utterly defeated and then betrayed, all within a few seconds. She snapped her fingers before him to bring him back to Earth.  
  
“Listen, time for you to put that thing in your case to good use; go over there and secure Blackmore. We’ll be taking him with us to the Vatican.”  
  
Kirei obeyed her without a word.  
  
He approached the battered and barely awake Ancestor, and the remaining vampires cleared his path. He kneeled by Blackmore’s side, opened the briefcase, and took out the relic hidden inside.  
  
  
The Relic that Narbareck had requested from the Vatican was a holy shroud – the crimson red Shroud of Martin.   
  
Its special ability was to seal magical powers of the user, and generally act as a ‘lid’ for all things pertaining to magic, and it was for this reason that Narbareck had Kirei bring it along. While the Shroud alone wouldn’t be nearly enough to contain the power of an Ancestor ( especially one as strong as Black Wing ), in his current weakened condition Blackmore had no strength to resist the effects of the Shroud.   
This would suppress his Curse of Restoration for a while, and allow the Church to transport him back to the Vatican; once there they could easily seal him in appropriate premises.  
  
Kirei wrapped the vampire from head to toe, except for his wings, and with that the two were good to go.  
  
  
However, just then, the gates of the throne room swung open.  
  
A third party had appeared in the castle – a group of men clad in black, lead by a young girl.  


***


	9. Chapter 9

  
  
The sudden arrival of the third party left everyone astonished. Narbareck quickly got back to her senses, though, and stepped forward to confront the newcomers.  
The group consisted of four men in black, led by a young woman in her early teens – she couldn’t have been older than thirteen, Narbareck figured.  
  
The girl had an aristocratic air about her, entering the hall and walking down the steps as if she were a princess invited to a ball. Her attire screamed of richness, too, for she looked like she had just come from a game of polo: tall riding boots, a long white coat, and a pair of white gloves. She contrasted completely with the men who followed her, who wore plain black suits and longcoats.  
  
Narbareck approached the girl, who looked at her with a mixture of mistrust and repugnance. Narbareck noticed this and chuckled a little.  
  
“Sorry for my disgraceful appearance,” she said in fluent English, pointing at her blood-soaked clothes,   
“Didn’t have time to change. I guess I'd have put more effort into it if I had known that we had such esteemed guests coming. Though, I’m afraid that you’re a bit late to the party.”  
  
Narbareck’s laid-back attitude and cheerful banter did not manage to erase a grimace of disgust from the other girl’s face. It entertained Narbareck a little.  
  
“May I ask with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” she said.  
  
After a brief hesitation the other girl replied, in a very posh British accent:  
  
”Lorelei Barthomeloi. Vice-Director of the Mage’s Association. And I assure you, the pleasure is not mutual.”  
  
“What a rude thing to say! Especially to a stranger.”  
  
”But you’re not a stranger. I know very well who you are.”  
  
“Oh? And how come you’ve heard of me?”  
  
”The word of your infamy has spread even to the faraway Clock Tower, _Director_.”  
  
“Looks like I’m pretty famous.”  
  
”If you wish that sort of fame for yourself,” Lorelei said, not hiding her disgust with the woman in front of her, “Murderer. A monster.”  
  
”You flatter me too much.”  
  
”Who, among other things, skewered a bishop in the middle of Milan.”  
  
“I must admit, that was one of the best experiences of my life,” Narbareck teased, shooting a twisted and insincere smile at Lorelei, “Maybe I’ll tell you all about it one day.”  
  
”I hope not. I’d rather if I don’t have to meet you lot ever again.”  
  
“Such harsh words, Miss Barthomeloi. I’m sure that we’d get along.”  
  
”I doubt it.”  
  
“Heh. Hatred for your own kind?”  
  
”I beg your pardon?” said Lorelei, genuinely shocked by Narbareck’s remark.  
  
“Your own kind. Killers. Murderers. Psychopaths. Vampire hunters. You see, Miss Barthomeloi, “ Narbareck said, switching to her business-like tone, “we know about you, too. The Church is just as informed about you lot as you are about us, if not better. Not to mention that the Barthomelois are generally renowned for their attitude towards vampires.  
“So it amuses me greatly when I see someone such as yourself despising me for being who I am. Or is that perhaps because, unlike your ladyship, I am of common birth?”  
  
“I’d have the same opinion of you if you were from a noble house. Or, just as likely, despise you even more.”  
  
”Heh. Well, I think I have a better guess. Mind if I try?”  
  
Narbareck took Lorelei’s silence as permission to continue.  
  
“We both know that you’re really bothered with who I am. What the hell do you care about some heretical bishop that got skewered in Italy? Nah – I think that you’re just pissed that I snatched your prey from you.”  
  
To Narbareck’s teasing smile, Lorelei shot back a cold stare of contempt.  
  
Narbareck was right, of course – what bothered Lorelei was that the Church’s dogs had gotten here before her, and took her prey from her before her very eyes. To young lady Barthomeloi, there was no greater insult than ruining her hunt.  
She gritted her teeth in anger, but her eyes remained as cold as ice.  
  
“Seems like I’m right,” Narbareck said, “After all, we are birds of a feather.”  
  
“I don’t have time for this nonsense”, said Lorelei, cutting Narbareck short, “We’re here for Gransurg Blackmore.”  
  
”Well, like I said, I’m afraid you’re a little too late for the party. We’ve already got him, and we’re taking him to the Vatican.”  
  
”I don’t think so. Blackmore is ours, and I’m taking him to London for some questioning.”  
  
”Think whatever you want, Missy, but we’re not giving Blackmore to you no matter what.”  
  
”No matter what?”   
  
”No matter what.”  
  
There was a long and unnerving silence as the two girls locked their eyes in a stand-off.   
  
Even if she was managing to control it, Lorelei was burning with anger at Narbareck for stealing her prey and injuring her pride. She would have liked nothing better than to cut the woman in front of her into pieces.  
  
“You know,” said Lorelei, “We could kill you all right now.”  
  
“I’d like to see you try,” Narbareck replied sweetly.  
  
“You are outnumbered, and weary. We would crush you.”  
  
”I’m sure you would. And do say, what happens then? Do you think this little incident would just stay a secret?”  
  
”The Church would not go to war with us over someone like you.”  
  
”Maybe. But this isn’t really only about me. We’re supposed to bring a Dead Apostle Ancestor back, and I can promise you that the Church would react about _that;_ we already have something of a collection in Rome.  
“So if you really want that war with the Vatican so much, then be my guest.”  
  
Again the two girls tried to stare each other down.   
  
The green eyes of the Church’s finest killer locked with the brown eyes of the de-facto leader of the Clock Tower. It was an incredibly tense situation, just a spark away from carnage and a possible war between their great organisations.   
Clock tower magi, vampires of Blackmore’s coven, and the Executioner Kotomine Kirei, all intently followed the stand-off between the two women, anxiously anticipating their next move. Lorelei creased her brows and clenched her fists; Narbareck’s heart started beating faster again as she prepared herself in case Lady Barthomeloi decides to call her bluff.   
  
  
In the end, Lorelei decided that she just can’t stand Narbareck no matter what.  
  
  
With just a twitch of her right arm and a whisper of the incantation, she attacked.  
  
A bright blue bolt of lightning appeared in the open palm of her right hand for a fraction of a second, and then she launched it at Narbareck. However, she was too slow.  
  
Narbareck had anticipated that Lorelei would do something like this, and threw herself out of the bolt’s trajectory with speed that surpassed the capacity of the human eye to follow and observe. Just as the bolt of lightning hit the ground where she stood moment ago, Narbareck appeared right in front of Lorelei.  
  
Lady Barthomeloi’s surprise was cut short as Narbareck immediately punched her into the abdomen, right beneath the diaphragm.   
The impact was monstrous; most of Lorelei’s abdominal organs were pulverised into a shapeless mash, and she was sent flying upwards at a tremendous speed. She hit the wall behind her, right above the gates, and the collision dented a crater in the stonework.  
  
However, Lorelei hadn’t lost her composure when Narbareck counterattacked – she had reinforced her back in a fraction of a second after getting punched, so her spine was left intact after the impact with the wall.   
She poured as much prana into her Circuits as she could and quickly regenerated her crushed entrails. Blood vessels were patched back together, and destroyed organs reconfigured. All of this happened within just a few seconds.  
  
  
Before Narbareck could reach for her weapons, or even just step back a little, Lorelei struck back.  
  
Still pressed against the wall, she opened the palms of her hands, and aimed at her enemy.  
  
 _“Ardor indomitus!”_  
  
A swirling torrent of pale blue flames shot out of her gloves and hit Narbareck.   
  
The raging firebolt punched the air out of her lungs and sent her flying back across the hall. She landed a dozen yards away, moaning in pain as she checked if there were any ribs broken. Her coat caught a bit of fire in few places, which she promptly extinguished.  
Meanwhile, Lorelei jumped ( or rather, fell ) down to the floor, massaging her stomach a little and spitting a some blood out.   
Her eyes, fixed on Narbareck, were shining with burning hatred.  
  
The silver-haired girl quickly rose back to her feet, drew her cutlasses out, and assumed a defensive posture. Narrowing her eyes, she started forming a plan of attack.  
  
However, Lady Barthomeloi was adamant not to give Narbareck even a slightest chance to land a second blow; she extended her arms towards her opponent, aiming at Narbareck’s head with the tips of her fingers.   
  
“Say your prayers, scum,” she hissed.  
  
A blue glow appeared around her fingers, accompanied by a muffled crackling noise.   
Narbareck tensed her muscles even more, anxiously awaiting Lorelei’s next move. She didn’t have to wait for long.  
  
 _“Percute, tonitrus de caeli! Inimicus meus ferve!!!”_  
  
She recited the incantation quickly but clearly. The aria echoed throughout the throne room as she focused her mind on weaving the spell, her gaze piercing the foe in front of her. Prana surged through her body, her Magic Crest turned ablaze, and with a loud crack and a blinding flash, her magecraft materialised.  
  
Pale blue thunderbolts shot out of her fingers and towards Narbareck. The deadly lightning traversed the distance between them in a split second.  
  
However, Narabreck wasn’t intending to take a hit like the previous time.  
  
She jumped out of the line of attack, away from the raging torrent of light.   
Just as she evaded the first attack, Lorelei fired a second one.  
  
A murmur was all it took; one after another, Lady Barthomeloi started shooting a volley after volley of deadly thunderbolts at Narbareck, barely breaking a sweat as she poured out one high-level spell one after another. The blinding flashes made it difficult for her to see her target but she kept firing, now relying purely on her instincts to aim.  
Her instincts served her well, and each salvo was right on target. Not only was her aiming accurate, but Lorelei fired at such a relentless pace that Narbareck wasn’t able to simply dodge the incoming attacks. She had to stand up and fight.  
Gripping her cutlasses tightly, she started her dance.  
  
The bystanders were left in awe at the sight of their duel; vampires, Enforcers, and a lonely Executor of the Church, all of them completely forgot about each others’ existence for a while, their eyes fixed on the tremendous clash of the titans that was playing out in the centre of the chamber.  
  
Each volley that Lorelei fired at her, Narbareck quickly deflected or cut off with her swords. Just like back in the forest, she moved in a series of elegant and precise movements. Her feet barely touched the ground as she moved around on the tips of her toes, sliding left and right, spinning around, dodging and lunging forward. It was even more impressive than her performances in the forest and the entrance hall.  
  
However, as awe-inspiring and effective her defence was, Narbareck was losing the fight.  
  
  
While others probably hadn’t noticed anything, Kirei managed to catch a glimpse of Narbarck’s face, and what he saw worried him.  
  
Her confident expression, her teasing grin, even the fire in her eyes – all of that was gone now. Her features were a mix of fear, nervousness, annoyance, and fatigue. Lady Barthomeloi was an exceptionally powerful opponent, and in her current state – tired after the previous fighting, and left without any trump cards – Narbareck was no match for her. All she could do in the face of Lorelei’s attacks was to defend, but even that could not go on indefinitely.  
  
Narbareck’s cutlasses were formidable weapons, but they were ill-suited for this type of fight. The holy steel could only fend off the blue lightning for so long, and with each salvo Narbareck could feel her weapons vibrating strongly as the blades were slowly getting chipped away by Lorelei’s tremendous attacks. And the grips were getting hot, too.  
  
  
Driven to the brink of defeat, Narabreck took desperate measures.  
  
As more blue sparkles appeared on Lorelei’s fingertips, announcing another attack, the silver-haired girl finally counterattacked.  
She threw her two cutlasses with all her strength, aiming at Lorelei’s head.  
The young magus smirked at her opponent’s act of desperation, and executed her attack - Narbareck’s blades were blown away to the opposite end of the chamber by the roaring thunderbolts.  
  
Lorelei’s gleeful smirk was erased in less then a second, though.  
  
Narbareck had barely let go of her treasured swords when she started the second phase of her counterstrike, lunging forward as fast as she could.  
  
She crossed the distance between the two of them in a few gargantuan leaps, moving so fast that only a handful of vampires present could keep track of her. Just as she was making the final step before reaching Lorelei, she reached down for her right boot, and drew a hidden dagger out of it.  
  
Her cutlasses hadn’t even hit the wall behind her when Narbareck suddenly materialised in front of lady Barthomeloi, clutching her dagger and pressing it against the young girl’s chin.   
  
  
The tide of blue lightning stopped.   
The throne room fell into eerie silence.   
The only sound was the heavy breathing of the two girls locked in a deathly grip in the middle of the chamber.  
  
Narbareck was pressing the razor-sharp tip of her knife against Lorelei’s chin. She in turn was pressing her hand against Narbareck’s stomach, ready to fire a lethal shot should Narbareck make any sudden moves.  
  
“Ha... ha... ha....”  
  
Narbareck panted in Lorelei’s face, catching her breath after an exhausting battle. She was about a head taller than her opponent, and stared into the younger girl’s eyes from above, her eyes filled with hatred and frustration.  
  
Lorelei, too, was breathing heavily, stunned and disheartened at how Narabreck had managed to evade her attacks and check her like this. She creased her brows and gritted her teeth as she defiantly returned a hateful look to Narbareck.  
  
Two of Lorelei’s men surrounded Kirei, and the other two stepped towards their leader.  
Their movements made Narbareck press her dagger even harder against Lorelei’s skin. A painful sting prompted the magus to order her men to back down.  
After a bit of hesitation, they obeyed, and Lorelei turned back to Narbareck who, albeit still tired and nervous, seemed to have relaxed a bit.  
Still, she eyed Lorelei suspiciously and with open contempt.  
  
“Blackmore is ours,” she whispered.  
  
“Are you gonna die just to bring that thing back to Rome?”  
  
“It’s _my_ prey. I’ll do with it as I like.”  
  
“Like hell it’s your pray. Blackmore belongs to us. Hand him over.”  
  
“We got here first. I beat him fair and square. So back off, bitch.”  
  
Gritting her teeth some more, Lorelei spread her hand more open, and Narbareck sensed sudden warmth against her side. She pressed her whole knife against Lorelei’s throat, the sharp blade now grazing the young girl’s throat, too.  
  
“Don’t be stupid.”  
  
“Blackmore belongs to the Association.”  
  
“Bullshit. He belongs to those who beat him. Quit being a brat and admit defeat if you have any dignity.”  
  
Lorelei bit her lip. A small stain of crimson appeared on the pale pink.  
  
She wanted nothing else but to kill Narbareck. She was barely controlling herself anymore.  
  
“I will kill you, scum.”  
  
“Then do it. Come on, kill me.”  
  
Teeth sank into the bruised lip even more. The time seemed to have stopped in the room as the two remained locked into a tense stand-off once more. This time, though, any attempt to fight their way out of it guaranteed their mutual deaths.  
Drops of sweat appeared on the foreheads of four magi in black. Kirei, too, eyed the situation and its observers with a nervous eye. Some of the vampires had left the throne room, but plenty had remained to watch the spectacle and to see how it ends.  
  
  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the situation got diffused.  
  
Lorelei lowered her hand from Narbareck’s side, and sighed in frustration.  
  
“Fine! You can keep Blackmore,” she said, turning her eyes away from Narbareck’s, and biting her lip again to swallow her defeat.   
  
Seeing this only made Narbareck smirk triumphantly.  
  
However, she was honestly relieved that her opponent yielded. She felt like she would have simply fallen down on the floor from exhaustion had it continued for much longer.  
  
“Thank you for being so understanding.”  
  
”Spare me. Right – men, let’s go.”  
  
Not in the mood to stick around Narbareck for even a second more, having to cope with her bitter defeat, young lady Barthomeloi just wanted to disappear from that wretched place as quickly as possible.  
The four men in black immediately obeyed their young mistress’ order and left the throne room.  
  
Lorelei followed them, and when she had climbed up to the top stair she turned around to Narbareck again:  
  
”Don’t make me have to suffer your presence again. I’d appreciate it if you were to remain in whatever hole that you’ve crawled out of. If I see you again I will murder you.”  
  
”That’s such a shame; I was hoping that we could talk again sometime,” Narbareck replied with an innocent look, now much more at ease and feeling coy again,   
“I think I might even come to like you, lady Barthomeloi. We are birds of a feather, after all.”  
  
”Ridiculous!” Lorelei said and hurriedly left the throne room.  
  
  
There was another short silence after the departure of the five magi, which was just as abrupt as their entrance.  
  
“Right. Well, now that that’s taken care of – Kirei!”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
”We’re done here. Grab that pile of shit over there and let’s go. I’m getting hungry.”  
  
”As you wish.”  
  
Kirei pulled the unconscious body of Gransurg Blackmore from the throne and towards the exit, where Narbareck waited for him. Once he was out of the throne room, Narbareck addressed the remaining vampires, who had been left completely puzzled and bewildered by the recent events.  
  
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it’s been fun. We’re off now. Pray that you never see me again.”  
  
She left the throne room, closing the gates behind her, and joined Kirei who had been waiting for her.  
  
“Ah... I’m really starving. Aren’t you?”  
  
”Yes, I am a bit hungry,” Kirei admitted.  
  
“No problem. Let’s just go find that smelly old truck, and then I’ll treat you to lunch when we get to Vimperk. I think I saw a nice pub there last night; we should grab a pint or two to celebrate this. Deal?”  
  
”Deal.”  
  
And with that, the two vampire hunters left the cursed castle.  
  
In the east, the summer sun had just risen over the horizon, painting the bleak skies with warm gold and blue.  
  
  


***


	10. Epilogue

  
  
It was still early morning. The usual frenzy and chaos hadn't gripped the heart of Rome yet as both the tourists and citizens alike had decided to indulge in an extra hour or so of sleep.  
  
The streets and piazzas were desolate, save for an odd taxi or a smelly old bus trotting down the still-cool asphalt, and some pigeons which were already starting to descend upon the city's myriad of fountains for a drink and a bath.  
However, albeit the city was still only starting to wake up, the same could not be said for the nature. The warm June sun was already up, poking over the roofs of even the tallest buildings, and casting its warm light over the Eternal City.  
  
The Verano cemetery was steeped in idyllic tranquility throughout the day, but at this hour it was even more peaceful than usual. The air was warm but not stagnant thanks to a gentle zephyr breezing through the pathways and colonnades. The sweet smell of ancient pines permeated the air and soothed one's nerves. Only one or two lonely visitors strolled beneath the thick black branches, walking along the tree-lined avenues softly and slowly, careful not to disturb the serenity of the cemetery.  
The only sound to be heard was the relentless staccato of the cicadas.  
  
In a secluded part of the graveyard, far from the areas frequented by tourists, a lone priest stood over a grave in silent contemplation. He was neither praying nor reciting a Psalm, but merely stood in front of the inconspicuous tombstone with a blank look, his empty and dark eyes fixed on a tiny picture near the upper left corner of the stone.  
  
The woman who looked back at him from the picture could not be called a beauty. She was sickly pale, her protruding cheekbones a sign of a disease, and her hair was whiter than snow. Her eyes, seemingly locked with the priest's, seemed weary but not sad.  
One could tell from only the small photo that the woman possessed great strength in spite of being obviously very sick.  
  
 _'Claudia Hortensia'._  
  
The letters on the tombstone were new and shiny, glittering under the rays of the bright summer sun. Stark contrast to the worn out picture next to it.  
  
The priest, Kotomine Kirei, had laid a single white rose on the woman's grave. He did so more out of politeness and duty rather than affection or mourning. As the matter of fact, he was unsure why he had even come to this place at all. The grave of his wife could only bring back painful memories and open wider the still fresh wound in his heart.  
However, the wound wasn't the one of a grieving man, mourning a terrible loss of his love. No – Kotomine Kirei did not once feel love for the woman that lay under the cold tombstone. And it was this that made his heart hurt and his mind to go into a turmoil.  
A failed experiment, that was all that she was to Kirei. An act of desparation in his frenzied fight against his nature. In his quest to become a normal human.  
  
Barely a week had passed since her death, and the memory of that day was already becoming hazy. Still, one thing he clearly remembered, the thing he was certain to remember for the rest of his life, was the feeling of disappointment and lamentation that gripped his heart when the frail woman took her own life.  
Lamentation over not killing her himself. Regret that he couldn't savour her despair after lowring a knife in her weak chest and proving to her, in her dying moments, that she was wrong about him all along. Despair as that saint realises that her efforts to save him were in vain since the very beginning.  
  
But he couldn't dwell on that memory for long.  
  
Remembering his feelings from back then only strained his already crippled mind. He felt like his escape had to come to an end soon. He couldn't keep running away from his nature for much longer. The death of his wife was definitely a turning point.  
  
His meeting with the devil called Narbareck was the second.  
He had to admit - she had frightened him. She could see deep into his rotten soul with a single look, and it terrified him. He was aware of his own nature all too well, but having it brought up and pointed out to him by someone else left Kirei shaken.  
What troubled him the most, though, was her attitude towards her own nature; accepting herself and acting on her wishes and impulses, with no regard to the moral code or fettered with the concepts of good and evil, she was the direct opposite to him, who had spent his entire existence denying his true self.  
The monstrous Director of the Burial Agency had shaken Kirei to his core.  
  
  
First there was his wife’s death.  
Then there was a meeting with the demon girl Narbareck.  
He wondered what God had in store for him next; whether there’d be a third pivotal point on his path, a third person to confront him about his nature, one who might finally push him over the edge.  
  
  
Such thoughts had preoccupied Kirei’s mind for the previous two days, ever since he got back to Rome from the hunt with Narbareck.  
  
Then, on the second night, a most extraordinary thing happened.  
  
Red markings had appeared at the back of his left hand, forming a strange pattern all the way from his wrist to his fingers. It surprised Kirei, to say the least, and left him thoroughly perplexed.  
Bewildered at this strange event, he had contacted his father Risei, who immediately flew in from Japan. The old man was bound to come here at any minute and take Kirei along to Turin. It was an unusual meeting place, far from Kirei’s quarters near the Vatican, but his father hadn’t asked any questions about it when they arranged it.  
  
The old priest was full of understanding for his son, no doubt thinking that Kirei wanted a bit of time to say farewell to his beloved wife before leaving the city. And, in a way, he was right; even Kirei had to admit as much.  
It was just his feelings towards the dead woman that father Risei got wrong.  
  
  
Kirei had completely lost track of time, so absorbed in his thoughts as he stood in the shadow of a large black pine before his wife’s grave that he wasn’t even registering the aria of the cicadas anymore.  
  
Finally, a soft pat on his shoulder woke him from his trance.  
  
“Kirei.”  
  
The young priest turned around without a slightest flinch, coming face to face with his father. The old man was squinting as usual, but he seemed fresh and energetic, and his black robes were perfectly neat as usual.  
Kirei greeted his father with just a quick nod.  
  
“Are you ready to go, son?”  
  
Kirei said nothing, his empty eyes fixed on a distant tree behind his father.  
His mind was still in turmoil, and he had barely registered his father’s presence.  
  
“Alright. Come – the Church has provided us with a car. The driver is waiting for us outside the cemetery gates. The train leaves in half an hour.”  
  
“You go on, father, I’ll be right with you in a moment.”  
  
The old priest hummed a little, looking at the simple grave behind Kirei. With a nod of understanding, he turned around towards the nearby alley.  
  
“I understand. Don’t take long, though.”  
  
Father Risei promptly left his son alone again, and Kirei turned back to his wife’s grave.  
The pale woman continued to look back at him from the worn-out photograph. The young priest found her gaze hard to bear.  
  
After a short while, he finally took a step back.  
Sparing one last glance at the grave, Kirei turned on his heel and left without any parting words. He felt the wild beating of his heart as he left his wife behind him once and for all, heading for the exit from the vast, sprawling cemetery. Regardless of where it might take him, he was certain; he was on the threshold of a life-changing journey.  
  
  
Just as Kirei left the secluded grove, a cold gust rose and blew through the cemetery.  
  
The white rose on the grave of Claudia Hortensia shivered under the sudden, strong rush of wind.  
  
A single petal got torn off and blown up towards the blue skies above.

 

(...)

  
“Congratulations on the successful hunt, Narbareck”.  
  
“Thanks Merem. It really was a good one. Shame that it’s over now.”  
  
“Well, you know how the saying goes: ‘All good things must come to an end’.”  
  
”Thanks. That really cheers me up.”  
  
Merem chuckled a little at his Captain’s last sentence – he liked that he had the ability to provoke that kind of reactions from her. With everyone else – though it sometimes included him, too - she was either manipulative or sadistic, so it was nice to know that she, too, could be teased.  
  
Following the great hunt in Bohemia, things went back to normal for the Director of the Burial Agency.  
The Cardinals thanked her for eliminating a dangerous and powerful vampire, commended her skill and courage, expressed satisfaction about the cooperation between the different branches of the Holy Church, and were overall full of words of praise and thank.  
But then they put her back under ‘home-arrest’ as before, and put even stricter surveillance over the building to make sure that she doesn’t leave again. It seemed that her life was exactly the way it had been before this.  
  
‘Well, not _exactly_ the same way,’ she thought to herself.  
  
There was a silver plate with a beautiful white-and-blue tea set on the table, as well as a bowl of vanilla-flavoured biscuits. It was a gift from Merem, who took pity on his Captain for always having to drink cheap fruit teas from stained coffee mugs, and thus bought her an antique tea set and a year-worth supply of finest teas.  
  
At the moment, they were drinking Earl Grey. For this special occasion he even came to the Burial Agency HQ in person, rather than sending the old priest that was his right hand.  
And his efforts did not fail to yield results; probably for the fist time in his life, he saw Narbareck genuinely smile. It wasn’t a feigned smile nor a twisted, sadistic smirk, but an honest smile brought about by something as simple as good tea, a bowl of biscuits, and the opportunity to speak face to face with the only person whom she considered a friend.  
  
It was a somewhat surreal scene; a psychopathic vampire hunter and a Dead Apostle Ancestor with the appearance of a fourteen-year-old boy were having a tea party, and were chatting about the most trivial things. The windows were open, bathing the entire office in warm June sunshine, and the muffled sounds of Rome’s bustling streets filled the air.  
  
“The weather is lovely.”  
  
”Yeah... too bad I can’t leave the building. I figure they’ve even put snipers around this place.”  
  
”Well, maybe we could smuggle you out somehow?”  
  
“I guess. What would we do, though? Go shopping? Sightseeing?”  
  
“Well, I know this really great little restaurant in Borgo Pio, just a few blocks away. I definitely recommend it.”  
  
”What do they cook?”  
  
“Italian, mostly.”  
  
“I don’t feel like eating Italian. Any good places that make Chinese or Indian?”  
  
“I’m sure I could find a place or two.”  
  
“Great. Now I only have to find a way to leave this dump unseen.”  
  
“Have you tried dressing yourself as a cleaning lady?” Merem said nonchalantly.  
  
Narbareck stopped in the mid of a sip after hearing his comment, to suppress a small giggle.  
  
“Nah, this damn hair is way too conspicuous.”  
  
“Perhaps you should dye it?”  
  
“Never.”  
  
“Oh, well.”  
  
A few minutes passed in silence. The two continued to sip their tea, gazing through the wide-open window over the sun-bathed streets and buildings below. The atmosphere in the room was simply... cozy, and neither felt like interrupting the pleasant tranquility.  
  
Finally, Narbareck broke the silence as her thoughts eventually drifted to a man she had met on her hunt:  
  
“Say, Merem, remember that priest I told you about?” Narbareck suddenly said.  
  
”That Kotomine guy? Yes, what about him?”  
  
“He was a really interesting man. I wonder where he’s now.”  
  
”I actually checked him out. I knew you’d be interested in him, so I tracked him a little.”  
  
”And?”  
  
”And only a few days after you got back, he suddenly went to Turin, along with his father.”  
  
”What’s he doing in Turin?”  
  
”Funnily enough, he’s no longer in Turin. He’s not in Italy, nor Europe, for that matter. He’s returned to his home country, Japan.”  
  
”Ah, such a shame... I was hoping that we’d get to talk again. He’s a very... peculiar person.”  
  
”How do you know; you only knew the man for two days.”  
  
”Women’s intuition, dear Merem,” she said, chuckling.  
  
“Well, maybe one day you’ll meet him again. And there’s also mail, you know? Letters, postcards... you know.”  
  
”I guess. I just think it’s such a shame that he left so suddenly. Ah well... more tea?”  
  
  
The idyllic atmosphere was short lived, though, as Merem was forced to interrupt their light-hearted conversation with more serious matter:  
  
”Narbareck, I’m sorry I have to interrupt, but I’m afraid there is a piece of news that I should really tell you about as soon as possible.”  
  
”Ah, ‘business’ again! Why must you always ruin our conversations with such things?”  
  
”Sorry, but this is really important. It’s actually one of the main reasons why I’ve come.”  
  
”And here I was thinking it was because you wanted to have a chat with me.”  
  
”That was the main reason, yes. I’ve only received these news this morning, and thought you should know.  
  
“Oh, fine, spit it out – what’s going on?”  
  
”Well, it seems that an entire town in central France has completely disappeared. The Church suspects that it’s a work of a vampire.”  
  
“Wouldn’t surprise me, really. But... it’s strange; France is Ortenrosse’s territory. I thought he had a firm control over his lands. Such things don’t really happen in places under his control.”  
  
”Yeah, that’s the problem really.”  
  
”Yes?”  
  
”The Church doesn’t think it’s some of Ortenrosse’s vampires.”  
  
”Then who?”  
  
“Well... nothing’s been confirmed yet... but they believe it might be Valdamjong.”  
  
Narbareck was struck speechless for a few seconds after hearing that.  
  
And then her lips curled into a twisted smile.  
  


 

**The End**


End file.
